Odalisque, is she?
by PrettyPleaseWithSugarOnTop
Summary: The sinned Lady Kuchiki is desperate to find her sister. This desperation caused her to make a single mistake- one that could cost her her marriage. Was being raped by another man worth anything? Infidelity and abandoning her sister... the Kuchiki Elders' cruel words were right, after all...
1. Chapter 1

_The sinned Lady Kuchiki is desperate to find her sister. This desperation caused her to make a single mistake- one that could cost her her marriage. Was being raped by another man worth anything? Infidelity and abandoning her sister... the Kuchiki Elders' cruel words were right, after all..._

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**A slight AU. Bleach is not mine.**

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"You understand that there will be payment involved?"

She had no idea that those words would be a start of a long, terrible nightmare. Another nightmare in her life, which had recently seemed to turn so much for the better. But Hisana Kuchiki had never been a fortune teller, and she was sadly aware of that.

"I understand." She peered at the man before her by the grimy counter of the rundown pub, her violet eyes glowing from beneath the thick set of delicate eyelashes. Her small, thin fingers clutched the edge of her dirty robe –clothes she had chosen this morning in order not to seem too inconspicuous in Rukongai- and the fine, delicate features of her oval face was set in a tinge of slight guilt. "I have money to pay." Spending her husband's vast fortune of money to redeem her sins didn't seem to be a very approving act, but she hadn't a choice. She needed this.

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart," The man replied in a sardonically amused tone. "Shall we get on with it, then?"

She nodded excitedly, trying to ignore the foul air from all around her. The odor of alcohol was not helping either.

"A little girl, about in her early teens, named Rukia," The man continued, glancing carelessly at a small stack of dirty papers. Simple black ink was scrawled crudely on the crumpled paper, so unlike the beautiful calligraphy of her husband. Somewhere, a man bellowed for more sake. "Looks like you, miss. She was seen in Hanging Dog with a red-haired boy approximately her age."

"A red-haired boy?" Her words fell out of her lips in a jumble. Here was real information; information she had been searching for so long… "Who is he? Which part of Hanging Dog?"

"By the small marketplace you passed by just an hour ago," the man answered, the same malicious amusement lingering in his voice. He reached out filthy fingers and prodded his goatee, smiling at the woman's instant consternation. "No need to fret, sweetcheeks. She's long gone by now. However, the red-haired boy- he should be a big help for you to trace her down. You see, he's a regular employee here in our humble pub. Now and then, he'll pop up here to help us out just for a small fee."

Hisana nearly went light-headed with relief and jubilance. She had finally found a proper lead, after months of fruitless searching! Her sister was so close; _she_ was so close. "This is wonderful! If he does come here again, please, please let me know!"

The bartender smiled mirthlessly, yellow teeth gleaming. "Payment will have to be made a second time again, of course, if you wish to come to us once more."

"Oh, the money is nothing!" she breathed out. The exhilaration ran through her body, and she couldn't sense anything else but the small ball of hope swelling in her chest. "How much do I owe you now?"

"Oh, it's not money I want," the bartender assured her, the unpleasant grin on his face widening to almost a leer.

"Not… money?" So caught up in her joy, it took her several seconds to comprehend his words. "What do you mean? I have nothing to give you aside from that."

"Oh, I beg to differ. Follow me."

The man moved away from the counter, tossing the papers into a nearby bin, before treading to a small wooden door located almost innocently at the back of the pub. She swallowed apprehensively, the short-lived happiness dying away, and for some reason goose bumps erupted on her fair skin.

She followed him.

The door creaked open eerily, dust rolling about in tiny clouds, and he stepped into the black darkness that flooded the entrance of the door without a word, vanishing promptly. She stared at the dark abyss, trepidation curling in her gut. "Look here," she said quickly, "don't you want money? I have money. I don't understand what else you want from me."

"I don't want your money," his voice calmly echoed back from somewhere in the invisible depths of the room. The swirling darkness made her skin prickle with fear. "Now hurry up and come in, you snail of a woman."

She glanced back at the crowd of customers laughing and gulping sake among their tables, oblivious to her situation. Then the woman looked back at the open door, and stepped in, feet trembling.

The door slammed shut behind her, and she jumped. Her heart leaping in her chest, she tightened her hands along the side of her arms, holding herself protectively.

Suddenly, she longed for the powerful security of Byakuya's arms.

"Where are you?" she called, her voice cracking. The darkness was not helping her fears.

"Can't you see me? I'm right here, waiting for you," the man's voice crackled menacingly.

She blinked erratically, and realized it wasn't so dark after all. The lighting was actually quite dim, and her eyes took a few long seconds to adjust to the bulky silhouette of the man, and…. the outline of a futon beside him on the dirty stone floor.

She was leaping back in less than a heartbeat, her mouth dry. "No," she blurted, gasping and her violet eyes wide with terror. "I can't. That wasn't what I… You agreed to money!"

"Did I?" the man asked wryly, his arms folded as a wicked gleam fell on his yellow, narrow eyes. "Because I didn't."

He was right, Hisana thought wildly, the terror and fear creeping up her body like piercing, cold iron staplers tearing through her flesh. He hadn't, from the start. She had only assumed.

"Please," she choked out desperately, only fully grasping the severe gravity of her situation. She was already past _petrified _and _frantic. _"I… I'm married. My husband… please, no. I can't. Please."

"Of course I know who you are," the man sneered. "A long time ago, you were one of us; a Rukongai citizen. Filthy, disgusting, and poor. But then _he, _Kuchiki Byakuya, the head of one of the greatest noble families, yes, he picked you up as his wife. His whore. I can't wait… _can't wait_ to touch what his _noble_ hands have touched… That should put me as the same level as him, won't it?"

His voice, so repulsive against the dimness… dripping with malice and the most lewd relish… she screamed, a high-pitched noise of absolute fear and agitation, and turned to flee, heart-wrenchingly screaming her husband's name as if it was a lifesaver. And to her, his name represented safety, security and love- even if he wasn't there. "_Byakuya-sama! Byakuya-sama_!"

Only for him to pick her up effortlessly in a minute, his slimy hand dragging her slight weight roughly, and the most disgusting voice purring against her ear, "Come now… Just picture _I'm him_…"

* * *

Kento squeezed his hands against his zanpakuto, his gasps coming out of his mouth in quivering, out of control tremors. The Eight Squad Third Seat struggled to compose himself. His fate relied on the three captains seated calmly before him now. The simple words uttered from their lips would judge his fate whether or not he could become the new Captain, and thus complete his dream. Sweat rolled off his cheeks in small rivulets, but he ignored it.

The room was so quiet that he nearly suffocated from the deafening silence. The long, silver length of his sword gleamed unaffectedly from his shaking grip. He stole a hasty glimpse at his judges, and nearly swooned in relief upon seeing Ukitake-taicho smiling warmly at him. It was the only sense of warmth he could detect as compared to the chilling, unfathomable iciness the other two captains emanated from their unmoving positions on the tatami mats.

"Kento-kun," the white-haired man said cheerfully, his thin arms waving cordially at the candidate from beneath flapping white sleeves, oblivious to his companions' coldness. Everything unfriendly seemed to bounce off the gentle captain. "Such a feat I'm seeing from you! I am so impressed. You are very talented, and as a captain you definitely have all the physical skills. Your Bankai is astounding! _However_…. You must have more faith in yourself, Kento-kun!" Ukitake winked at the shinigami, pale face creasing into an encouraging smile. Kento smiled back, feeling as if his lips were made of ice.

Ukitake had taken Kento's captain, Kyouraku-taicho's place after the lazy, inebriated captain was sent to the Fourth Squad due to an overdose of alcohol. Kento found it ironic that a terminally ill man was sent in his captain's place as a judge on the Captain's Exam because his own captain was indisposed in the hospital. But he sure wasn't going to complain when Ukitake was the nicest person around.

"Therefore… I have to say… Yes!" Ukitake ended off kindly, and Kento had to stop himself from sobbing in relieved joy. "Thank you, sir," he whispered.

"No need to thank me for something you deserve!" Ukitake-taicho replied smilingly, his eyes warm. The man turned to the companion sitting beside him. "How about you now, Byakuya?"

Kento stilled automatically, his fingers twitching against the hilt of his sword. Byakuya Kuchiki. Now this was a man you did not want to mess with. This man, this aristocratly serene and alluring creature, radiated potent_ immense_ power that was honed under inhuman control and, at the same time, also emanated an utter condescending lack of generous concern to the things around him. He seemed to be situated in a world of his own, an elevated world untouched by the common pains and worries of average people below.

He peered timidly at the captain. Byakuya Kuchiki sat coolly before him, elegant and beautifully slender gloved hands placed neatly on his powerful drawn knees, his eyes closed unconcernedly, a thick row of sooty beautiful lashes fanning his pale smooth skin. Kento knew those eyes, when opened, were enough to send his targets to their trembling knees. The intimidating, slate grey eyes lay as piercing, regal slashes slanted above the sophisticated high cheekbones. His long silky dark hair flowed across his broad but leanly taut shoulders, not a strand out of place, save for a few ones casually yet ever so precisely scattered over the flawless, artistic features of his face. A powerful shinigami he was, and also a being with acute grace.

Kento had also seen the tiny, gentle and vulnerable woman perched on the long, protective curve of his arm from afar; Kuchiki's beloved wife.

The Sixth Captain finally spoke, in low rich and quietly haughty tones.

"You lack resolve," he stated calmly, his eyes still closed, and not an inch of his long robes shifted. The man appeared indifferent to Kento's sudden spike in fear. "You lack confidence in yourself. How can a captain, without even the confidence in himself, possess the confidence in defending Soul Society? Return home, as I would advise you to, and reflect."

Kento's blood seemed to chill in his veins. He had been rejected.

The captain hadn't even acknowledged his fighting skills! Heck, the man hadn't even acknowledged _him_! It was as if he was invisible; the Sixth Captain's eyes were still closed disinterestedly.

Kento _hated_ this man. He had always hated him, and now this loathing was growing, taking seed and _sprouting _into something more. Something dangerous.

He turned his head to Captain Yamamoto. His last and possible salvation.

* * *

Hisana stumbled through the verandah of the mansion, but quickly righted herself, setting her face to an expression of innocence. Her sandaled feet trod through the smooth, expensive timber of the wooden floor, struggling not to tremble. On the other hand, her head lifted steadily as she gazed into the entrance of the large, beautiful building which loomed over her tiny form like a mountain to an ant. Black silky locks fluttered along the delicate sides of her pale face.

A man with a bent back approached her, his body curled and his white hair gleaming in the dimness of the evening. He peered at her respectfully, his wrinkled eyes wide with relief behind the large lens of his specs.

"My Lady," he croaked, bowing slightly before her. "You have finally returned. I was starting to get worried."

"Is… is he back?" She asked softly.

"Not yet. He is set to return home tomorrow."

She felt tainted relief wash through her like poison seeping through her veins; something she had no right to feel glad over. Yet she was not too surprised, as she was all too aware that he was only scheduled to return the following day, after all. He was well-known to be ever so meticulously on time and on schedule. But one could not help but fear sometimes...

''I see.'' She smiled gently at the anxious family butler. The butler was old, and she knew he had been serving the Kuchiki Family before Byakuya had even been born. The man was someone who belonged here, someone who had earned his right amongst the family. Unlike her, whose only presence in the mansion -the _Sereitei_- was a reminder to the people of the lingering, traitorous feelings Byakuya had for her.

Feelings that now only proved to them just how truly traitorous they were. For she was as tainted as they believed her to be. Hisana wrestled hastily not to let the pain of her aching, bleeding body affect her expression as she gazed at the old man before her. ''I shall be heading to my room now.''

The room she shared with her husband.

The servant bowed politely, his gnarled fingers curling. ''Of course, my lady. However... if I may speak, my lady, are you alright? You seem...'' his expression shifted as he struggled to find the words, ''unwell.''

''I am perfectly fine, thank you,'' she answered kindly, and turned quickly before the butler could catch her countenance. The woman strode off with short, quick steps along the long, spacious corridors, and waved off the onslaught of maids who rushed to her side with a grateful but firm wave of her arm.

She tugged her shawl tighter around her, as if to help brace herself, and took in a deep albeit shaky intake of breath before ever so gently pushing the shoji door open. Cool air drifted in tranquilly into the large room that greeted her eyes.

Tears nearly spilled out of said eyes.

She took in the desk tucked neatly at one corner of the room -_his_ desk- with the long, elegant brush lying stationary on one side along the ink slab. He enjoyed writing calligraphy late into the night, while breathing in the very cool night air wafting in right now. She could easily make out the beautiful slivers of moonlight slithering through the gaps of window. Sometimes, they would sit together in each other's arms by the open shoji doors located on the opposite side of the bedroom, and watch the moon nestled above in the night sky. It had been so simple, so serene, and yet it had been one of the things that had made her so very happy.

She didn't deserve it. She had done the unthinkable.

The woman walked with unsteady legs -now in the privacy of her room- into the dark entrance of the bathroom. Her black hair dishevelled and bangs scattered messily over her tired liquid eyes, she looked wearily into the long mirror positioned gracefully on the wall by the golden basin. And bit by bit, starting with the shawl, her crumpled robes fell to the floor.

She looked into the mirror again. Gashes, bruises and dried blood circled her tiny, slender body. She would have laughed at how blue and green her skin looked if not for the reality of her situation. The blood had crusted onto her ravaged flesh, and she could feel the vicious stinging throb in her nether region. Even as she watched on, in an almost detached way, as if she was viewing someone else's body, a tiny blob of fresh crimson blood crept defiantly from between her shaking, shaking legs.

For a while she had believed that sex was supposed to be pleasurable. Her husband had been her first; and he had been the best. It had been definitely pleasurable- an underestimation; he brought her to the heavens with his adroit, loving hands and those perfect lips; using the tenderest of caresses to push her into the realms of utter rapture. He had made her feel like a queen- someone who deserved to be smothered with affection and love despite her sins. She still recalled how he always made sure he caught her in his arms whenever she soared towards an earth-shattering climax, to keep her from falling and losing control.

Sex with the bartender had not been pleasurable. It had been a process to pay him back with what he wanted, at the cost of her agony. He had held a complete lack of regard towards her welfare. The man had forced himself into her without even bothering about lubrication, ignoring her anguished shrill screams as he sated himself. She could still feel her walls tearing and bleeding as he callously entered, his fingernails digging viciously into her skin and slapping her violently when he felt like it.

But could she blame him? She had promised him payment and he had done his part in the exchange. She simply hadn't... expected _that._

A tiny trickle of a crystal tear rolled down her chin and dripped onto her bruised neck.

It had hurt so much. All the guilt of abandoning her sister, and now perhaps, this was her punishment. Karma was like that. Yet by suffering her punishment she had committed _another _sin; infidelity. Why was everything all related? Was her life going to be washed in the blackness of her sins for the rest of her life?

She stared at her trembling hands.

Her husband was a wonderful man. She longed to be like him. He was a good person; he decided and acted by his honour and she knew that should he have a sibling, he would never have abandoned them. She was the only blotch of sin in his otherwise spotless record- another one of _her_ sins. People called her terrible things behind his back, and the worst thing was that she couldn't just raise her head proudly and ignore their disparaging remarks _because they were true_.

They called her a whore. Well she was one now, wasn't she? They called her a peasant. _That_ didn't even require an explanation. She was. They said she tarnished the Kuchiki family's reputation, another tick of the box. They called her a greedy and selfish witch. Abandoning Rukia certainly hadn't been because of her selfless personality either.

Hisana gasped abruptly as a sudden wave of vertigo washed over her. She clutched the side of the gold basin quickly, before snatching her hand back again at the feel of the cold, expensive metal. She didn't deserve to touch these things. She didn't deserve to be here. She loathed her surroundings. They were mocking her, just like the bartender's yellow eyes as he violated her...

She shook visibly, and looked down at the consistently throbbing pulse on her skinny wrist.

The gentle, calm grey eyes filled her mind and the tears finally fell with a vengeance.

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**I have a plot and if the response is good, then yeah I'll really want to continue this!**

**-_PPWSOT_**


	2. Chapter 2

_The sinned Lady Kuchiki is desperate to find her sister. This desperation caused her to make a single mistake- one that could cost her her marriage. Was being raped by another man worth anything? Infidelity and abandoning her sister... the Kuchiki Elders' cruel words were right, after all..._

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**Thank you for reviewing!**

**Sunshine187: Hahah yeah it's rather intense, but then I realized that ByaHisa is a really intense pairing! It's not light-hearted at all, and yet I'm just crazy over it! Thank you for wanting more, I just hope the 'more' doesn't dissatisfy you! XD Thanks for your support!**

**Rose Attack: Thank you for your compliments! I'm glad you find this story nice enough- because I really wanted to continue this! Thank you so much!**

**Snikee- Thank you for being so nice! I was actually scared the infidelity idea would scare off people. I just want to say, not just to you but to everyone that Hisana was raped, and it was **_**not **_**consensual sex!**

**Ryuu613: Awww, thank you for saying such wonderful stuff! I'll try my best not to disappoint you!**

**Meichan: Hahah yes like I said to Sunshine187, ByaHisa is a really intense pairing to me! Seeing it in a light-hearted way would be cool too, but canonically I personally think they would be rather intense! Thank you for taking the time to review, and now that I updated, please love me forever! XD just kidding. But thanks anyway!**

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The room was deadly quiet save for the slight panting of a man leaning over a table in a defeated slump. Sweaty strands of his dark brown hair were draped over his crumpled forehead, his fists curled over the edge of the table, fingernails digging into the hard wood. The lone sheathed length of his zanpakuto lay against his drawn knees, metal against fabric. He stared blankly at the stretch of table before him, expression unfathomable, knuckles white. The only source of light came from a flickering candle, and the few slivers of moonlight streaming in through the windows.

His companion eyed him sympathetically, although it was somewhat ruined by the fact that he was picking his nose. "Cool it, man," Sako said, grunting as he pulled a finger out of his hairy nostril. He, too, wore the shinigami robes like the silent man. "Everyone has failures. Your captaincy test was just one of them."

"It was his fault," Kento finally spoke, his voice shaking with emotion. Hatred. "If not for his words, Captain Yamamoto would definitely have considered me. I have the abilities, I know it. But that _captain Kuchiki_…" He trailed off, the rage in him too strong to finish his words.

Sako sighed, the noise rumbling off his throat. "This ain't just about your abilities. Everyone knows Captain Kuchiki is hard to please. So don't beat yourself up about it. You can try again, after all." He didn't, at all, realize the immensity of Kento's dream to be a captain.

"Sure," Kento said bitterly, hand leaving the table to clutch the hilt of his sword. Despite his slumped form, there was something sinister and threatening in that gesture. "There's a captaincy test only when there's space for a new captain. How long do you think it will be before that opportunity offers itself again? Not to mention that my having been rejected is going to leave a stain on my record. _Kuchiki Byakuya ruined everything_."

"Stop being so melodramatic," Sako glared at his companion, now scratching his beard. "I understand things are hard for you now, but you're still a Third Seat. You just have to bide your time for a while before taking the next step. I'm sure next time you won't be so unlucky to get Byakuya Kuchiki again as your judge."

"I've decided," Kento said, not listening to Sako at all, but just staring in mid-space. This time, there was nothing blank in his expression at all. It was filled with the intensity of hatred, eyes glimmering and mouth pulled back. The flame of the candle lit up his features in a crimson glow. "I'm going to make Byakuya Kuchiki pay."

Sako burst out laughing. "Sure. It's like a rat trying to make a giant pay. Don't be foolish, Kento."

"Rats," Kento said quietly, "can be dangerous too."

* * *

Hisana stared emotionlessly at the full body mirror by her dressing table. The long sleeves of her pink yukata hid all the way up to the fragile wrists of her hands, concealing all the bruises and wounds that were inflicted by the bartender on her white creamy skin. The garment fell smoothly to her small feet, and her white haori gave her a deeper sense of false security.

Security... that was a word she felt so distant to. She certainly had not experienced that yesterday, lying alone in the large, comfortable yet empty futon last night, staring at the moonlight washing the shoji doors in a silver glow with dry eyes, blankly reliving the memories of her writhing, anguished screaming form as the man took her violently.

Even then, she could feel a stinging in her body that was not to do with her wounds. She felt unclean, and the urge to bathe for the third time surfaced once more. Her eyelids fluttered to a brief close, the dainty eyelashes stretched out across her delicate features, and she held herself carefully. There was no losing control. She had learned that much from _him._

The filth staining her form was not one that could be washed away.

The shoji door rustled lightly as a female, meek voice sounded from outside, and Hisana turned quickly, her pale lips drooping slightly at the corners of her mouth. Vague pain assaulted her sides at the simple motion, and she winced. Her wounds were far from healed.

''The master is home, my lady,'' the maid outside informed her politely, and Hisana could make out the respectfully bent silhouette rippling against the shoji door.

''Thank you,'' she replied softly, her heart thudding as large, violet eyes glowed. ''I will be coming at once.''

The female maid left, the faint footsteps of her socked feet thudding against the polished timber floor. She did not, especially not from outside the door, see the anguished expression on her mistress's face.

Outside the room, the servants were going wild as they crowded around the tall elegant man standing by the entrance, silky long dark hair flowing over his slender, pale neck like a shadowy, sinking halo. Long robes flowed regally from his lengthy, supple form, and his slate grey eyes were expressionless beneath beautiful long eyelashes. The angular, striking features of his unreadable countenance were elegant and exquisitely sculpted; he resembled a powerful god from where he stood gracefully before the golden rays of sunlight glowing through the tall, vast entrance of the mansion. For he was one, the god of Death.

The servants practically tossed themselves at their beloved head of the noble family, eager to please. The old man, who served as the butler, bowed respectfully before his master.

''Byakuya-sama,'' he croaked softly, shrivelled frame bent, ''Welcome home. It has been a long week without my lord's presence.''

Byakuya's head tilted ever so slightly as he carelessly regarded his butler, before silently turning away once more, dark smoky grey eyes probing the crowd before him searchingly, expression yet unchanging. It was no mystery, however, who he was looking for.

The waves of people parted abruptly as a tiny woman appeared before him, her head lowered demurely. ''Byakuya-sama,'' she greeted softly, a small smile on her face. ''Welcome home.''

The servants watched with bated breath as she approached him, her small hand outstretched to gently rest on his arm. She could feel the warm sleek firmness beneath her palm at where she touched him, her pulse quickening, and forced herself to meet the piercing grey eyes steadily. The Kuchiki servants simply watched on mutely, now still and unmoving, as their tiny lady guided the Head of the family along the corridors, who followed her silently with graceful, long strides. The maids looked with slight envious gazes, hands perched together. It was true that none of them ever expected or even dared hope to be with Kuchiki Byakuya. He was an impossible conquest, just a beautiful god whom they could admire reverently and bask in his presence from where they stood below, and that was it. And one day, he would marry a noble lady and she would become their mistress whether they liked it or not. What they definitely did not expect was for the man, who was about as emotionless as an ice cube, to pick a peasant from Rukongai as his wife.

How was it fair that they, who had worked under him and served him for years, had received less than a glance from him in all their life, and yet in a month's time when he was in Rukongai, he had immediately married her?

The Lady was a soul heavy with grief and unspoken secrets, they could tell. It was amazing how that petite frame was capable of shouldering such mysterious emotional burden. The maids could still remember the first time they saw the woman, tiny along the curve of the master's powerful arm from where the enigmatic new couple stood at the entrance of the mansion, lightning crackling across the jagged sky behind them. She was so small in stature, the violet eyes large against her oval white face, skin even paler than Byakuya's, and there was a small, stark smile on her lips that did not reach those liquid eyes, the violet pools shimmering with an emotion they could not comprehend. It resembled sadness and happiness mixed in simultaneously, if that was even possible. And then they had seen lightning strike once more in a white, nearly blinding flash, illuminating Byakuya's grey eyes, soft and almost tender for the first time in years as he gazed at the girl, his features, ever so slightly, no longer as rigid as before.

The master had fallen in love.

And he still was.

Hisana fought the urge to bite her lip as she entered the room, her footsteps light and dainty against the woody surface of the tatami mats lying out across the floor. The serene tinkling of wind chimes reverberated somewhere outside. _He_ was right behind her, she knew, and even then she could feel his intense gaze burning into the back of her head. She was a nervous wreck, pregnant with the mix of turbulent emotions swirling within her. One particular emotion was joy. He was home, Kuchiki Byakuya, her anchor, and the man she deeply adored and depended on more than anything else in the world. Her _only _anchor, to be honest. She missed his embraces and his love, and above all, she missed _him_.

And yet the darkest, most heavy emotion clouding her heart was fear. She was scared, so very terrified. It was a silly emotion to go with the joy she felt at the company of the one man she trusted more than anyone. But she was afraid, afraid at what his reaction would be if he knew what she had done…

But did she have to tell him? She could delay the unpleasant things for now, and to just wallow in his return and presence, temporary as it might be... Yes, Hisana Kuchiki was running away from the truth again, much like how she had run away from her little baby sister. Only it would similarly one day return to haunt her, she was aware, as her body ached terribly from the injuries coating her skin like a morbid reminder. Wanting to hide her wounds from the servants, she had simply washed them thoroughly with bathwater, flinching at the bitter pain of the crystal, pure liquid lapping over her hot, bloodied gashes. The woman did not want to consider what could happen for neglecting to administer the proper treatment. Asking for medicated oil would definitely attract a torrent of concerned questions from the household.

For now, they lay concealed beneath her intentionally long robes. She did not know how long she could hide things from her alarmingly perceptive husband, but she would try.

"Here," Hisana said softly, moving behind him quickly and ignoring the sting the speed brought to her injuries. She lifted her hands to softly grasp the back of his captain's haori, reverently gazing at the sleek, tall build of Byakuya. Sudden memories of the bartender's muscles contracting as he reached to slap her invaded her mind abruptly, and she nearly choked. The woman held her breath, gently removing the robe from Byakuya's relenting shoulders, and was glad that he couldn't see her face.

She softly laid the robe across their futon, and her breath hitched as she gazed at the innocent double bed. Everything reminded her of the bartender's violation right then, and just the same as with her little sister, she couldn't escape sin's persistent grasp.

"What's the matter?" A deep baritone spoke calmly behind her, and she jumped, realising that she had been frozen for a few seconds. The pain of her wounds made her stiffen slightly at the brisk movement.

"It's fine," she replied gently. What was with her? Why did she have to let down everybody who was dear to her? There were few of them, really, mainly Byakuya and her sister, and she knew that only made them all the more precious. "Would you like me to serve you some tea?"

She forced a smile as he eyed her stolidly, his expression unfathomable. The shrewd, beautiful grey eyes watched her with a sort of tranquillity that she had no hope of ever achieving within herself.

"Proceed."

His voice was as blunt and impenetrable as ever.

Relieved, she rose almost unsteadily to her feet and approached a small round table near the shoji doors, picking up the clay kettle gingerly. It was full and heavy with the tea she had risen early this morning to prepare. Not that she had really slept in the first place…

She pulled a bamboo cup near, and cautiously tilted the kettle above its brim. Since when had the kettle been so heavy? She could feel the thin bones of her wrist straining painfully as she poured; the woman had hardly faced difficulty carrying out this task before, but now the gashes along her arm seemed to burn through her flesh. Recently, even before the bartender, such mundane tasks tired her. It sent shame washing her in a painful flow across her veins. A non-shinigami Lady of the Kuchiki House was at least expected to carry out said tasks and birth an heir… Currently, she had been facing challenge for the former and failing at the latter.

Finally done, she set the kettle down, and picked up the steaming filled cup. The refreshing aroma of well-made tea filled the air copiously, and she stifled a sigh of relief at the one task she had so far excelled in…

Hisana stretched out her arms towards her unreadable husband, her offering respectfully raised towards him. His long, graceful slender fingers curled, not around the cup, but around her bony wrist. Her head jerked in surprise, and she watched with wide eyes as he removed the cup with his other hand. He set down the cup beside him, and turned to her calmly, still not releasing her wrist.

And then, with a speed so blindingly fast his fingers were resting on her eyelids. Her cheeks flushed and the fuzzy images of the bartender gripping her face roughly whipped through her mind like a whip. She flinched. Only, Byakuya's touch was so soft, so tender and it made her want to weep at the difference.

With a simple, swift stroke, his adroit fingers brushed off the heavy foundation coating her eyelids, revealing the puffiness and eye bags she had worked so hard to conceal this morning. She gasped at how easily he had unmasked her, and tried not to look at the thick beige streaks of make-up on his digits.

"You have not being sleeping well." There was something almost accusing in his unruffled demeanour as he looked down at her. Lustrous dark strands of hair slipped past the perfect curve of his sharp chin with an elegant tilt of his head. His voice, however, was as placid and collected as always. Only Byakuya could accuse someone with such a disinterested tone of voice, and yet pull it off. Hisana felt her heart somersault in apprehension. "And you have been crying." His voice lowered, and she was not sure if it was tenderness or sternness that laced the eloquent timbre of his voice. Perhaps both…

She forced another pained smile on her white face, and she understood the unspoken question that hung in the air between them.

She was to explain herself.

"My latest trip to Rukongai, Byakuya-sama," Hisana finally answered shakily. He had no idea how close she was to the truth. "My search… was fruitless." And it indeed was, for she had not found her missing sister. She had only omitted certain… circumstances in her answer.

She stiffened as his arms reached out and gently brought her into his embrace. His warm virile scent of rain and tea leaves flooded her nose in a soothing wave, but she could not bring herself to enjoy it… Her head rested against his hard chest, the silkiness of his robes rubbing against her cheek. "Perhaps luck will reward you next time." His voice was low and even, but she knew that he was genuinely pained at _her _pain.

It was terrible. She couldn't… couldn't rest in his embrace when she had betrayed him and lied to him… The contempt she felt towards herself rose so powerfully at that moment that she felt bile gather in her throat. So sickened by her own existence, she pulled back away from him almost violently, biting her lip deeply. His slanted eyes widened minutely, his long arms lowering, and she smiled bitterly. This time it was a certainly genuine smile.

"I'm sorry," she said, turning away. "Would you like me to prepare the bath?" For once, her voice was as emotionless as his.

He observed her carefully. There was something, prickling in the edges of his sharp and intelligent consciousness that was just not right. From the first time since she appeared before him today, her head bent meekly, there had been something too forced about her demeanor. And her movements were stiff -such changes were extremely subtle, but his keen sight, his soldier eyes and lover eyes, had caught onto it at once- and for that slightest moment, he had seen fear flicker across her face as she peered at him.

It had angered and worried him beneath his tranquil semblance. Hisana? Fear towards him? That was unheard of. It was true she looked up to him and respected him, but that was not fear. What had she to fear? Did she not recognise him as her protector and lover?

Something was certainly wrong, and he knew it.

She had gone over to the bathroom, and was currently screwing the sturdy taps open despite his silence to her question. He watched from the door as a tiny wince crossed her shoulders, her small delicate fingers gripping the tap. Crystal water gushed out and poured into the bathtub with an announcing roar.

She stretched out a hand and placed her palm inside the liquid to test its temperature. He strode silently up behind her, robes billowing. She was crouched by the hard edge of the tub, the fine, elfin features of her face screwed up in concentration at her task.

''Bathe with me as well,'' he commanded in measured tones, large slender hands reaching out to remove her long robes.

She started at his words, and her body bent over abruptly as she snatched her robe quickly away from him, a coughing fit seizing her diminutive frame. Almost immediately his arms were around her protectively, pulling her to him as she convulsed in his arms.

His worry rose tenfold.

''I will be calling the physician,'' he said evenly, not allowing his concern to seep out. She needed him, not for him to panic, but for him to be her strong support. The man pressed a tender kiss on her trembling head.

To his surprise, said head whipped up in alarm, and he met wet violet irises. Tears streaked her cheeks as she violently choked out a single word.

''No!''

* * *

-_PPWSOT_


	3. Chapter 3

_The sinned Lady Kuchiki is desperate to find her sister. This desperation caused her to make a single mistake- one that could cost her her marriage. Was being raped by another man worth anything? Infidelity and abandoning her sister... the Kuchiki Elders' cruel words were right, after all..._

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**Hi! As usual the first thing I have to do is thank the AWESOME reviewers! **

**Meichan: Wow, your words really encourage me! Thank you for complimenting my writing skills when I'm only an amateur writer! It really makes me happy! As to your question on how often I intend to update the story, the truth is I can't be sure. I love writing this story, but real life, laziness and writer's block are pests! However having encouraging reviewers like you guys definitely increase my muse to write! So thank you SO MUCH! And as long as you guys like it there's no way I'll ditch this story ever.  
**

**Ryuu613: Thank you for reviewing and for your encouraging words, and yes, Byakuya's reaction…. Hm XD Stay tuned! Love you!  
**

**Rose Attack: Haha yes, I'm excited to write Byakuya finding out and all the drama and …yeah XD Also …Kento, yes he plays quite a role in the story. Sorry if anyone of you dislikes OCs. Thank you for your praise and for taking the time out to review! **

**Queen of Narnia49: Thanks for reviewing! I'm so glad you liked it so far! Your words spur me on! About your comment concerning how formal they are- I'm not sure whether you have watched Bleach before, but Byakuya is a very…. stiff guy canonically XD Being nobles, all the Kuchiki family members are rather formal to each other. There's actually a flashback on Hisana and Byakuya in the Bleach movie (I raped that scene with the replay button), and she was extremely respectful to him. I think in the Kuchiki clan the Head of the family calls for extreme respect even if he's your husband. It's their… tradition, I think. Sorry for babbling, but I hoped this helped you in any way!**

**Califas: Thanks for your review! Haha maybe I should change the genre to suspense? Just kidding. But still, your comments are very sweet!**

* * *

A gasp brokenly rattled her throat as Hisana struggled to force back her coughs. The delicate, petite frame of the woman shook with effort in her husband's arms, and yet at the same time she brought herself to meet the exotic slant of his dark ashen eyes. He looked impassive, but she could see the gentleness in those eyes.

''You have nothing to fear,'' Byakuya said calmly, long powerful arms pulling her even closer within his embrace. She caught a faint whiff of cherry blossoms and rain and earth against the hardness of his chest. His large hand rested against the back of her head, rhythmically stroking her dark glossy hair as if cajoling an infant. ''The physician will help you. I have not failed to notice the deterioration of your health lately.''

She had a feeling that he had certainly detected something amiss from her foolish outburst and her shed tears earlier, but had chosen to ignore it for now. Her heart leapt erratically from within the bounds of her chest. Surely, he could feel the maniacal pounding of her sinful, wretched heartbeat against his pure, righteous one? She was so deeply entwined in his protective arms.

_Sin, sin..._

''But you have only just returned home, Byakuya-sama,'' she replied softly, ignoring the tantalizing cries of truth in her ears. The woman had once again somewhat gained control of her body, now that the brunt of her coughing fit had passed, although her voice was hoarse with illness and fear. ''I do not wish to fill the welcome you deserve with unpleasantness. Besides, I am not that unwell- it is just a cough.'' She reached up bravely to stroke his sharp, striking cheekbones, savouring the smoothness of his perfect pearly skin. His face was expressionless, and his arms around her did not waver.

He was so beautiful, she thought faintly. Nothing like the bartender.

Nothing like her.

Abruptly she moved her hand away, and turned her head towards the bath. The water was nearly filling the tub now, and more jets of pure liquid continued gushing vengefully from the opening of the tap.

''The bath is filling,'' she said. ''Allow me-''

The small woman paused when she realised that he had not let her go at all. His arms were still wound around her torso, holding her gently but firmly in place against the sleek and toned body of his. Oh, how she knew that beautiful body. Their past nights of passionate lovemaking had been firmly ingrained in her mind, and beautiful nights they were.

She tried not to think about her latest night of utter violation. She tried not to think of the possible consequences to her latest escapade.

''Byakuya-sama?'' She whispered.

''One more time,'' he stated. His elegant baritone gave nothing away, and yet she could read everything from behind the smoky grey of his steely irises. His spidery fingers traced the protruding outline of her spine along her robes in a light yet possessive caress. ''Should you feel ill again one more time like just now, I will summon the physician."

His voice held a finality that Hisana knew was futile to protest against. This was Byakuya Kuchiki. He ruled with an iron fist, and he protected with an iron fist.

No more coughing fits, she told herself sternly. Not in front of him or the servants-

''If you feign your condition, Hisana,'' his deep voice suddenly breathed evenly beside her ear, and her violet eyes widened at the feel of his smothering, sculpted pale lips so close to her vulnerable skin, ''Do not.''

The warning from her lover was clear.

And then he had lowered her dumbstruck form onto the ground carefully in a single graceful fluid motion, dark robes billowing regally and long slender fingers tracing her neck. She stared as he turned away wordlessly to approach the neglected bath.

Her wounds ached suddenly from where she sat on the floor, but she was not sure why. He had been most gentle in his actions, but yet... her body abruptly burned with the weight of her sins after his tender concern.

The sounds of water rippling caught her attention and she looked up to see Byakuya switching off the tap effortlessly, his fingers grazing the golden metal. With his other hand he dipped his long digits into the swirling lukewarm liquid of the bath. The man flicked them lightly against the water, long sleeves shaking.

''Let me,'' Hisana began, mortified that he had ended up carrying out her task, but he cut her off.

''Stay there.''

She stilled, sensing his silent command despite how nonchalantly he had spoken. Satisfied with the water's temperature, he pulled his now dripping hand back calmly. She stiffened when he turned to face her, his expression unreadable, and her own palms tightened over her robes.

It wasn't just the injuries that she wanted to hide from him, she knew. Currently, the idea of undressing for any man, even the man whom she loved and trusted dearly, terrified her. It shamed her to feel that way. Byakuya had never in her life hurt her. He had given her love and protection and she, in turn, loved being intimate with him. He was an extremely attractive man of course, she was all too aware. Sometimes a little too attractive for her liking.

But she knew the nightmare of the bartender's callous and cruel physical treatment would torment her for life, and no amount of attractiveness and love was going to cure her of that. Not for a long while.

''I have bathed earlier today, Byakuya-sama,'' she spoke meekly, slowly getting to her feet. The gashes on her narrow thighs where the bartender had violently gripped her stung at the simple motion. ''Please, enjoy your bath. I will get you a new set of night robes.''

He did not say anything, and she took it as consent to do so.

The Lady of the Kuchiki family left the bathroom, closing the door carefully. Mild tendrils of steam had already started wafting in the air inside. She headed to the silent shoji doors of the bedroom, and slid them open quietly. A few maids were along the spacious corridors, arms loaded with freshly done laundry, and they bowed at the sight of their mistress. All of them donned similar long dark brown garments.

Hisana smiled and carefully picked up a silken piece of robe from one of their arms, inspecting it. ''Byakuya-sama's clothes are ready?''

''Yes, Hisana-sama.'' One maid gingerly lifted her filled arms. ''They are all cleaned. We will be putting them away now. Does Byakuya-sama need his night robe?'' She gestured respectfully at the expensive silk in Hisana's grasp.

Hisana's smile widened gratefully, her shimmering violet eyes half-lidded. ''Yes. Thank you.''

They left.

She clutched the lengthy white robe in her hands, making sure it did not dangle onto the timber floor, extremely long as it was. He was such a tall man, Hisana thought vaguely, making her way back to the large door of the bathroom. She realised bitterly how elegant a tall man and a tall woman would look together. An elegant couple who complimented each other perfectly.

Pushing the door open, she blinked at the wisps of steam floating about. She could just make out her husband's silhouette inside. He had already entered the bathtub, and only the outline of his head and powerful shoulders were visible above the tub. His robes lay discarded on one side of the room, draped over the elegantly carved basin.

She made her way closer, still cradling his night robe, and flushed when she met intense slate grey eyes watching her serenely this whole time. Droplets of water hung from the tip of his sooty, almost feminine eyelashes like liquid crystals, and yet she knew he was far from feminine. His features were far too striking and sharp, especially his chin. Damp strands of satiny raven locks clung to the taut curves of his muscled shoulders and the slender column of his long neck.

The bartender had not been attractive or beautiful. But then she had been too busy screaming and the pain in her torn nether region as he entered had been excruciating. All she had noticed about him were his venomous yellow eyes...

Hisana shuddered, and quickly turned away, draping the night robe over a wooden stand by the door. She did not notice the narrowing of Byakuya's eyes.

Once she was sure the robe was secure and her emotions were collected, the woman turned back to him.

She wanted to thank and repay Byakuya for everything... despite what she had done...

Her socked feet mutely treaded over the smooth floor towards the hard edge of the tub, where she promptly sat herself demurely. He watched her, and when she raised her arms beseechingly to him, gracefully tilted his head back into her awaiting palms. Dark silky locks of hair pooled her fingers like ink.

Hisana gently moved her dainty hands through his wet ebony tresses, massaging his scalp. Still cradling his head on her lap in one small hand, she reached out for a ceramic container perched next to her on the ledge and dipped her hand into it. Shampoo coated her fingers and she proceeded to lather his hair with the soapy foam. A small sigh rumbled lowly from his throat as she assiduously massaged the crown of his head, the soap streaking white marks across his glossy night tresses. Her hands gently rubbed his temples in rhythmical strokes, silently marvelling at the silkiness of his unblemished pale skin.

The smoky, sophisticated silvery eyes were half-lidded beneath the exotic row of inky lashes, and she knew he was enjoying her massage. It disappointed her that she could not do better for him; the wounds along her arms were far too painful and sore, and they limited the movements of her hands too much. Even now, with every slight yet skilled stroke of her hands, she could already feel her bruised wrists aching.

''How was the Captaincy test, Byakuya-sama?'' She inquired softly into the peaceful atmosphere, her soapy hand tracing his scalp soothingly. It had been such a long week without him…

There was a short pause. ''It was...'' He fully opened his eyes, staring insouciantly ahead. ''Disappointing.''

''Are you sure?'' She asked teasingly. ''Or does the Great Byakuya Kuchiki simply have too high expectations?''

''Hn.'' He let out a low, deep noise of disapproval at her words, and she giggled. After _yesterday_, she had never thought she could experience true serenity again. It seemed she was wrong, at least for a few seconds right then. Both of them, she knew, were immensely enjoying the tranquil lull of the other's presence.

The young woman splashed some warm water across his hair, getting rid of the soap. "How is Ukitake-Taicho? It must be hard for him, working as a captain when he is unwell."

"He appears to be fine so far."

Maybe I should bake some pastries again the next time we visit him," Hisana concluded vaguely. "He seemed quite partial to the apple pie I baked last time. Do you think he would like yam pie this time?"

Byakuya's enigmatic gaze flickered, body as still as a statue. A beautifully sculpted statue, she thought admiringly, her hand brushing the pale sleek, sinuous muscles along his straight, dignified back. Seeing him naked, even now after years of marriage, was enough to make her blush. Who would not, when their husband's body was equivalent to a male model's?

"Do not worry yourself too much with him." His voice revealed nothing.

Hisana smiled knowingly, however. "Of course, aside from the pies I'll make _you_ your favourite curry, with extra chilli," she added playfully, her hand now splashing more water across his scalp soothingly. "Did you think I've forgotten about you, Byakuya-sama?"

The side of his lips tilted slightly, and she knew that was Byakuya's way of showing amusement. "No."

"Well, I didn't. _But_," her fingers ceased their ministrations on his raven locks momentarily, her voice still playful, "I'll make you the curry only under the condition that you didn't terrify the poor candidates. Did you?"

The tiniest flicker of a smile crossed his full lips.

''There was one candidate who was indeed promising,'' he finally said quietly, his head tilting to allow her better access across his tresses. ''But he was not good enough.''

His words were almost cold, Hisana noted sadly as she worked. They were words that were frankly spoken, and they left no room for compromise. A fact was a fact.

The fact that she had been unfaithful to him was also a fact.

Her original tranquillity shattered now, and the pit of her tummy convulsing, she dabbed absently at his now soap-clean jet black strands, the now damp hem of her sleeves flapping. ''I hope you rejected him... gently.''

A silent plea.

''I simply gave him the facts,'' Byakuya replied evenly. He glanced at her sideways, noting her exceptionally pale complexion. ''What is the matter?''

''It's nothing.'' Hisana gently pulled her hands away from his locks, her work done, but started when he reached out and held them in place. She stared nervously, fingers twitching. Several seconds passed.

His expression as inscrutable as always, Byakuya observed the diminutive outline of her hands for a few long seconds. Her heart pounded furiously. He lifted one hand up, tiny in the heart of his own large hand, and pressed a soft kiss on her exposed, icy palm. She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed.

The feel of those warm sculpted lips against her wetted, slightly wrinkled skin was such a heavenly sin.

* * *

Moonlight seeped through the windows in an ethereal milky glow, illuminating the two entwined figures curled beneath silk sheets on the futon, which was laid out across the elegant wooden floor. One figure was much bigger and taller than the other, and he cradled his tiny sleeping companion in his arms. Sakura trees breathed restlessly outside on the mansion grounds, leaves fluttering in the night, and the koi from the vast, glimmering ponds frolicked.

Kuchiki Byakuya calmly gazed down at the sleeping woman in his embrace. Her head lay limply on his chest, mouth slightly open. He could hear her audible but quiet breathing against the silk of his robe. Her eyelashes seemed to pool like shadows along her bloodless white skin. Skin so white that it worried him. He could tell from the quiet, soft snores escaping her parted pink lips that she was exhausted, proving further that she hadn't slept at all last night. Hisana did not snore often.

How he had missed her warmth next to him...

He ran a large hand down her body, feeling the bony thinness along her narrow back. Byakuya could still feel the slight bump of her spine along his fingers, and his heart gave a tender twist beneath his stoic semblance. Hisana had always been a slender woman since they first met, but she had been steadily losing weight now, despite how strictly he watched her diet and made sure she ate nothing but the most nutritious meals. He knew it was her persistent trips to Rukongai that was diminishing her already fragile health.

Byakuya was a powerful man. The things that threatened him were rare, and the last thing on earth that he thought could threaten him was a small child. Yet threaten him this small child did, for Hisana's entire being was tortured by her little sister's existence. Her little sister was a threat to Hisana's emotional and physical health, and whoever threatened his wife threatened him.

He lowered his lips and tenderly kissed the top of Hisana's head, one hand still stroking her bony back. She stirred slightly against his chest, murmuring incoherently, before falling back into deeper slumber.

Certain she was asleep once more, the slanted eyes narrowed, and he reached out to gently lift her hand. Earlier on, when she had been massaging him, he had not failed to notice many things. One main thing was how stiff her movements had been and how little she had maneuvered her hands about, as if restrained by something. He had received many of her massages before, and while the perceptive man had enjoyed his latest one, the subtle difference this time had not escaped him. After all, the slightest difference in handling a sword could end up in bloody defeat during a battle.

Not to mention throughout their whole time together, there had been something wrong with Hisana. Her unresolved fear of seeing the physician, her sudden mood swings (discreet as she obviously thought they were) and her unnatural demeanour.

She was hiding something from him, and it was not just about her missing sister.

Byakuya gazed unfathomably at the tiny hand he was cradling for a few tense heartbeats, before moving to pull her sleeve up in a fluid motion.

Slate grey eyes widened with utterly undisguised emotion for the first time in a long while.

Her skinny wrist was littered with bruises, easily illuminated by the moon. The gruesome darkening shade of splattered purple seemed to cling morbidly to his wife's once creamy skin like parasitic shadows. They were all over her forearm, and as he pulled her sleeve up further, extended all the way to above her elbow. And all of the rather fresh bruises, he noted with narrowing eyes, were the exact smears of fingerprints.

The man laid down her arm gently, and inspected her other hand. It was the same.

Was all this the link behind her strange behaviour?

The moonlight glowed radiantly in the darkness, reflecting the cold fury in the darkening, smothering ashen eyes.. His fingers lightly caressed her wounded wrist in a protective, tender gesture, careful not to harm her further. Thin lips were pulled back in a taut, grim line as he stared at Hisana's still slumbering form, the woman peacefully ignorant to the rising menace in her husband's dangerously composed demeanour.

Someone had dared to manhandle his wife.

* * *

Kento hadn't returned to the Eighth division for the whole day. Not yet. Not today. He couldn't bear... to see Kyouraku-Taicho's well-concealed look of disappointment, nor the sympathetic looks from Ise-Fukutaicho. The captain was a nice man, and somehow that cut him more than anything else.

_''I look forward to seeing you as a fellow captain instead of my subordinate, Kento-kun! Hahaha! Work hard, will you?'' _Those words had been briefly followed by the swig of his sake, and then the hardcover book in Ise-Fukutaicho's hands slamming onto his head for drinking.

Kento could hardly forget all the long hours Kyouraku-taicho had invested into helping him perfect his bankai.

Surely everyone had heard the news by now?

He stumbled through the streets of Rukongai, sandaled feet treading the dirty ground heavily. People stared slightly warily at him, tense with the sight of a shinigami wandering their paths. Thugs eyed him hungrily, and their eyes roved the outline of his sword by his waist.

Kento turned and entered a small, isolated pub.

''Sake,'' he ordered blindly, plopping down by the counter, before dropping his head into his hands. What else was there to order, after all?

''You look downright miserable,'' a voice said. He heard the clink of a bottle in front of him, and immediately reached out to grab the sake.

''Well, I'm not exactly happy,'' he replied bitterly, gulping the drink. Liquid fire trickled down his throat, and his senses blurred with relief. ''Someone ruined everything I worked for.''

It was unlike him to open up to random strangers, but then Kento was past the point of caring and he was here to get drunk, so who cared?

''Hm.'' The voice said. ''And who might that be?''

Kento sucked noisily at the brim of his sake bottle, before pausing. ''I'll be damned if you haven't heard of him.'' He looked up at his companion blearily, although the emotion in his voice didn't waver. ''Kuchiki Byakuya.''

The name was bitter in his mouth, something not even sake could wash away.

''Well.'' The bartender with the gleaming yellow eyes smiled. ''What do you know. I _have_ heard of him.'' He leaned forward, smile widening mirthfully at the inebriated shinigami, as if about to share a joke. ''Do you know what his greatest weakness is? Because I do.''

* * *

-_PPWSOP_


	4. Chapter 4

_The sinned Lady Kuchiki is desperate to find her sister. This desperation caused her to make a single mistake- one that could cost her her marriage. Was being raped by another man worth anything? Infidelity and abandoning her sister... the Kuchiki Elders' cruel words were right, after all..._

* * *

**Omg thanks for all the reviews guys!**

**Indigo-Cascadian: You have a very tempting begging face. Hence the update. Thanks for the review!**

**Snikee: Thanks for taking the time out to write a review! And yes, I will try to update as regularly as I can! **

**Queen of Narnia49: Thank you for writing a review! About your first para, I agree with you that there were times when I suspected that Byakuya only became emotionless after Hisana passed. But in the recent flashback with Hisana from the third Bleach movie, he already seemed to be quite a stiff character back then XD however he had no qualms in showing his worry towards Hisana so that's a big change I guess. Still it's only an analysis on my part when I watched it, so it's not necessarily accurate. Maybe you might see it all differently! And yes, Byakuya would definitely want the bartender dead after what he did to Hisana XD but the bartender is a sly fellow, sadly… And about Kento, hehehe… Anyway, thanks so much for reading my story and I'm glad you seem to like it so far! Thank you thank you so much!**

**Meichan: Haha glad you liked my previous update! Thank you for reading and reviewing! And yeah I feel for Hisana too D: I actually feel bad for making her life so miserable in this fic but then she has such a hot, loving husband so it's not so bad right? XD Thank you for all your compliments because they warm my heart very much! Let me blow you a kiss! I'm glad some of the scenes in the story left you such a… heavy impact. Is that the right phrase? Haha! **

**Sky1011: Oh dear it seems you didn't like this story too much at first. Still, thank you for taking the time to try out reading! And please don't be too mad at poor Hisana, since she was actually raped in this fic. She did fight back, I suppose, but the bartender was too strong. Hisana is rather… a physically and emotionally weak woman in this story. Poor thing, and I'm so terrible, I know. This story is a Hurt/Comfort story though. In any case, it was awesome of you to try out a fic you didn't initially like so I thank you for your support! **

**Ryuu613: Thank you for complimenting my writing! You are sweet! I'm glad you like the story so far! Hopefully I will continue to meet your expectations. Thank ya!**

**Califas: Thanks for reviewing! You are awesome! Oh sob I know I actually feel sorry for Hisana too when I write this story. But like I said to Meichan, Hisana does have this totally sexy guy as her husband and he loves her unconditionally and for that I feel sooo envious!**

_**Note: This chapter is in Hisana's perspective, and third person perspective.**_

* * *

_Hisana looked up, smiling, as the long curtains in front of her slid apart to reveal a nurse. The nurse was cradling a small bundle of cloth in her arms, and from the cloth Hisana could make out the tiny head of a baby._

"_Congratulations, it's a boy," the nurse announced cheerfully. She leaned forward and gently passed the sleeping infant into Hisana's eagerly awaiting arms._

_She could feel the light warm weight resting in her embrace, and her chest felt as if it would burst in joy anytime. It was her baby. It was Byakuya's and her baby. The seed of their love lay in her arms. _

"_Where is Byakuya-sama?" She asked, the smile on her face so wide she thought her lips would break._

_A flash of disconcertment crossed the nurse's face, like a glint of dagger against the serene, jubilant atmosphere. "He's not coming, dear."_

"_What do you mean?" Hisana said, confusion breaking into the blissful swirl of her mind._

"_Look down." The nurse's voice was calm, and yet something about it sent a jolt of unexpected fear in Hisana's heart. _

_She looked down._

"Hisana."

_The baby wasn't sleeping, after all. Slowly, as if Hisana was watching a small film, his swollen eyelids flickered open to reveal gleaming, malevolent yellow pupils, almost like a snake's._

_This wasn't Byakuya's baby._

"Hisana. Hisana."

_Hisana screamed and frantically shoved her baby away, but tiny, chubby hands reached out to cling unrelentingly onto her arms like parasites. _

"_What's wrong, Sister?" A high-pitched, innocent voice intoned, and she realised the baby wasn't a boy either. Yellow eyes had melted into familiar violet hues, and the now female baby's toothless mouth was opening and shutting. "Are you going to abandon me… again?"_

"No…no!"

Hisana screamed, her eyes flying open in a panic as her thin chest heaved. Tears trickled down her face as she wailed hysterically. Mild rays of golden sunlight assaulted her blurred vision.

It took her some time to realise that strong arms were cradling her, and that she was being held against someone's warm chest as if _she_ was the baby. It wasn't until luscious strands of familiar ebony hair tickled her cheek that Hisana realised, through a teary haze, who it was, and what was going on.

Her terror-stricken screams finally died away, and she simply lay there helplessly in her husband's protective embrace, trembling and gasping. He pressed feather-light kisses against the side of her tear-streaked face, stroking her hair lovingly. Her head turned along the side of his firm chest, and suddenly, it didn't matter what the dream was about or how it concerned him. All she knew was that it had been terrifying and he was her source of comfort.

She clung to him weakly with skinny hands and wept into him. She wept out her fear of having been raped and violated, her guilt of abandoning someone so helpless and dear to her, and her loneliness for the past week without him. Weeping them out would not get rid of those emotions, but for now, she could only vent them out in a whirl of delirious abandon.

All the while Byakuya rocked her tiny form in his arms and pressed his lips tenderly along her almost hollow cheeks. His dark grey eyes were sombre and other than that unreadable as he lowered his face against her tousled hair.

Gradually, her wretched sobs subsided and she rested exhaustedly, spent, in his arms, her turbulent, wild emotions slowly, ever so slowly, calming. He held up the hem of his sleeves and gently dabbed her sweaty and teary face.

''I'm sorry,'' she whispered, voice cracked. For what, she was not specifically sure. For weeping against him and ruining his clothes? For sleeping with another man? For burdening him with her sister? There were too many things to count, and her apology sounded pathetic even in her ears.

He did not answer, but simply continued dabbing the sweat and tears off her smooth skin. It felt... soothing.

''It was just,'' she continued, blinking as the silk of his sleeve brushed against her quivering, sodden eyelashes, ''a really bad dream.''

''More than that, perhaps,'' he finally answered quietly, and somehow the deep rumble of his unruffled baritone through his chest and throat calmed her further. ''Do you want to talk about it?''

His scent of fresh, morning rain and tea leaves only helped to soothe Hisana more, and already she could feel her initially tense muscles loosening. ''Not really,'' she whispered. The woman sent him what she hoped to be a reassuring smile. ''I'm better now. Please don't worry about me.''

He gave her a measured look in return, and despite his impassiveness she knew he did not believe her at all. He had ceased dabbing her face, and was now carelessly stroking the side of her narrow waist with his long fingers, almost to her back. Her husband seemed to have some sort of obsession with her back, she noted absently. It upset her faintly. Of all things in a woman, he found her back more interesting than… other parts.

Still, she thought resentfully, what other parts did she have to offer him?

It took the distraught Hisana several more seconds to fully discover that she was lying snugly on Byakuya's lap, her slender, petite body curled along him like a small pet and his powerful arms wrapped protectively around her. He was sitting beside the wrinkled futon where she had originally been sleeping.

And he was fully dressed in his Captain robes.

''What time is it?'' Hisana gasped, trying to sit up in his embrace, her night robe crinkling. The gold, fiery sunlight glowing through the windows and shoji doors seemed brighter than ever, and she could hear birds chirping serenely outside in the mansion grounds.

His grip on her frame never wavered. ''It is nearly noon, I believe.''

She choked, feminine violet orbs widening almost comically in horror. The worst of her nightmare had certainly passed for now, but it seemed reality wasn't doing too well either. Her hands tightened their grip on his now slightly damp robes, fine knuckles whitening further. ''Why- why didn't you wake me?''

''You were tired.'' His answer was a simple one, but then most of Byakuya's answers were so. If anything, that only made him all the more intense and intimidating, for immense weight lay in little words.

Kuchiki Byakuya did not believe in speaking unnecessarily.

''Well, a little...'' she trailed off guiltily, noticing the long stretch of white expensive paper lying on the floor before them. Traces of black ink were elegantly lined on its papery surface, and beside the paper lay a discarded slender brush on top of an inkwell. ''You were doing calligraphy.''

He glanced at the direction of her gaze, acknowledging her. ''I was.''

''You mean you don't have to go to the Division today?'' The remains of her now drying tears clung to her eyelids like pieces of a hardened shell, and she rubbed them.

''Perhaps later. I have other things to see to today.''

She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.

How odd, she thought. Byakuya was normally gone from the mansion before the break of dawn, and she would wake a few hours later, before proceeding to set about her daily tasks and of course, Rukongai. It was unlike the diligent noble to neglect his duties, so whatever ''other things'' he was referring to had to be important.

She chose not to dwell on it, though. While it was likely Byakuya would tell her if she asked, the fact remained that he had not revealed it voluntarily.

''I do wish I could write calligraphy just as beautifully,'' she said wistfully, gazing past his broad shoulder onto the inky elegant writing. It was no different from its artist.

Said artist tilted his head slightly to one side in a blase, noncommittal gesture. Heavy, silky-soft strands of his dark hair gathered on one shoulder, the one her head was leaning on, and she gazed at the glossy locks quietly. ''You could learn,'' he said mildly.

Hisana smiled crookedly. ''I remember you offering to teach me before,'' she replied, glancing at him and flushing when she met his intense gaze. ''I can't seem to remember why I declined then.''

He cradled her fingers with a soft gentleness that did not match his steely expression. ''Do you wish to learn now?'' The noble sounded ever so practical.

She was aware that he was still gazing at her, and for the first time she actually felt uncomfortable, rather than just embarrassed. His stare felt more… intense than usual. It was as if he was watching her every move; as if he was waiting for her reaction to a phantom something.

Was she simply thinking too much?

''Y-yes,'' Hisana whispered. ''If you have the time.''

He did not respond to that, but moved to prop up her delicate body into a sitting position with the same gentleness as before, almost like handling a small child. Soundlessly he shifted his own body as well to face the paper. She ended up sitting right in front of the protective length of his larger, lean form, her thin but shapely legs curled out. From where she sat the woman could feel his warmth surrounding her securely like a soft but firm haori, and also the hardness of his toned, washboard abdomen beneath her back, even against the thinness of his robe.

Pink spots materialized in her cheeks. Such intimacy was proving to be very distracting.

Byakuya's long fingers curled around her narrow right hand, his palm resting cautiously on her bony wrist. ''Does it hurt?'' His voice was so very deep and almost husky at the shell of her ear, and she flinched. It reminded her too much of the intrusion of personal space from the bartender, and she felt helplessly angry at herself for even thinking this way with Byakuya.

Suddenly to her, things between them turned less intimate and more frightening.

He noticed her flinch, and immediately his already tender grip on her wrist loosened. It was as if he was regarding her hand to be made of glass. To be fragile. To be injured.

Her eyes widened immediately at the wild thought, and she tried to swallow down her fear of something else entirely.

She was just thinking too much. Of course she was thinking too much. Byakuya couldn't have known... could he?

''Its fine,'' Hisana interjected quickly. ''It doesn't hurt at all. Why would it?''

The originally forgotten bruises on her arm throbbed abruptly.

''So I see,'' he responded levelly, and for once it truly perturbed her that she couldn't read anything from his seemingly indifferent demeanour. He continued watching her. ''Now pick up the brush.''

She did as she was told, her hand wriggling awkwardly around the cool polished wood of the calligraphy brush. Byakuya carefully reached over to help adjust her writing posture, fingers brushing softly against fingers. She glanced timidly at the aristocratic slash of his high, fair cheekbones, which were directly in her peripheral line of vision.

''Here.'' He finally released her hand, and she turned her meek gaze to look at her new writing posture on the brush. It felt... foreign and unfamiliar to her. Her wrist was arched daintily, fingers pressed precisely yet lightly over the smooth length of the brush. She stifled a wince from the ache of her bruises thanks to the new position of her hand.

He was still watching her calmly, and it was perhaps her imagination that she thought she glimpsed a hint of concern in his gaze. ''Does it feel alright?''

''Of course,'' she smiled tightly, ignoring the persistent ache.

His beautiful lips tautened slightly, but other than that his cool expression was unchanging. ''What would you like to write?''

''Hm.'' She cocked her head, and a puckish smile crossed her elfin features. ''I want to write the character _Cat_.''

Just as she had expected, the change in his countenance at her answer was subtle but definite. The regal slant of his flawless eyelids narrowed further, and she watched his thin, elegant lips tighten in a long line along his narrow jaw.

He was irritated.

''What's wrong?'' She teased. ''You don't like that character? We can always write something else, you know.''

''It is fine,'' Byakuya stated coolly. ''We will write that.''

His dislike towards cats was legendary, much to Hisana's amusement. It took a lot to actually visibly irritate Kuchiki Byakuya, and she marvelled at Shihoin Yoruichi...

Her chest constricted unexpectedly, humour fading suddenly, and the throb in her bruised right hand became abruptly less important. ''Does she affect you that much?''

Byakuya gracefully raised an eyebrow at her sudden change in topic. ''To whom are you referring?''

''Shihoin Yoruichi,'' Hisana replied quietly. ''The two of you had quite a history, isn't it? She was a very beautiful woman.'' Her voice was feather-light and wistful.

She wasn't jealous. Envious, perhaps. Jealousy came with hostility and anger, but envy was simply envy. Perhaps it came with a slight ring of resignation to it, and Hisana had certainly resigned herself to many painful things, including her emotions. She was sure that Byakuya had had his fill of women before her, and she had long resigned herself to the fact that it _did_ hurt her. There was no anger in her because there was no self-denial, and because there was no anger there was no jealousy. She was certain that should she ever meet Yoruichi-san one day, she would greet the buxom woman with open arms and be truly genuine about it.

Who was she to feel threatened about something she had never deserved to have in the first place?

"You are being foolish.'' The dulcet resonation of Byakuya's pristine, smooth baritone drew her out of her bitter reverie. She peered up meekly to face his hooded, dark silvery gaze. ''It is absurd for you to feel the way you do.''

She smiled wryly. ''I suppose you're right. I have been... rather foolish, haven't I?'' Her sentiment did not just extend to Shihoin Yoruichi, and she had a feeling he knew.

Nonetheless, if he did, he revealed nothing of it. Instead he lightly extracted the brush from her fingers. She watched through admiring eyes at his perfect writing posture; he held the brush up in an adroit, languid grasp that was both strong and soft. To her, Byakuya was an outline of contradictions, almost like an exotic, complicated yet erudite painting; he was angular and sharp, and yet supple and smooth. He was cold and kind. He was steely and gentle.

And she loved every bit of him.

''Watch.'' It was a simple instruction, and she obeyed. With firm but delicately nimble strokes of the brush he began writing over her shoulder. She marvelled at the long, winding and exquisite curves of the materializing character on the paper. He was ever so precise, after all; sparse ink gathered at the right spots of the character and places with thicker amounts of ink soared elegantly above.

After he was done he glanced carelessly at his work, unimpressed. Hisana was a different case, however.

''It's incredible,'' she squeaked. While it was true she had viewed his work every day, it never failed to amaze her. Dislike towards cats he might feel, but the character had still been beautifully depicted. ''Let me try!''

To her surprise, Byakuya did not pass her the brush immediately, but simply scrutinized her with a heavy gaze she did not understand. ''Do not push yourself if you do not feel up to it,'' he finally spoke impassively, in a voice so deep and low she almost didn't hear him.

Her violet eyes widened, and pinkish, soft lips stretched into a wan smile. He wasn't still talking about her coughing fit yesterday, was he?

''I'm perfectly fine, Byakuya-sama,'' Hisana said, with a light-heartedness she did not really feel.

He was habitually silent.

She took the brush gently from his unmoving hands, and after a few tries she managed to adjust her writing posture to the one he had taught her. The pain from her injuries was immediately back thanks to the familiarly uncomfortable position, and she clenched her teeth beneath firmly closed lips. The woman dipped the brush into the inkwell, careful not to get too much ink. Ignoring the intense stare burning at her back, Hisana eyed his perfectly painted _Cat _on the paper, before gingerly applying her brush on the space beside it and pressed downwards-

She screamed as an exceptionally agonising pain seared up the length of her bruised arm. The brush fell onto the paper with a _clank,_ black liquid pooling and staining Byakuya's work. Her fingers convulsed at the unexpectedness of the fiery pain- _who knew bruises could hurt so much?_

In less than a flash, Byakuya was tenderly cradling her wounded hand as she gasped uncontrollably. She blinked her watering eyes, feeling slightly frustrated at how useless she was. Horror welled up in her chest; normal people did not scream in pain when attempting calligraphy, at least not uninjured people, and she was sure Byakuya was sensing something very wrong about her.

She tried to snatch her hand away from his hold, but the dread in her gut only intensified when he refused to release her. The worst of the pain had now subsided; but she was not too grateful about that, for there was nothing left to distract her from what she could have accidentally revealed to him. She had been too careless, too dumb. It had been stupid to request calligraphy lessons from him when her hand was like this. There was no way he wouldn't suspect about her injuries now, and she could think of no excuses to explain her sudden cries of pain.

His indecipherable expression behind her was only making things worse.

A pregnant silence fell between them. Hisana lowered her head, refusing to meet his piercing eyes. She could still feel his hand gently holding hers. Anytime now, she thought. Anytime now, he would lift her sleeve and discover her bruises and demand to know why they were there…

His other hand reached out silently and lifted her trembling chin to the side to face him. She flinched at the shade of concern in the exquisite ashen eyes.

"Are you still in pain?" His voice was eloquently calm, but she did not fail to notice the worry and tenderness that laced his otherwise sedate tone. His thumb possessively caressed the strained sprinkle of her veins on her shaking hand in a soothing, loving gesture.

Hisana shook her head numbly. Her fear far overshadowed the pain; for there would be no reason to be tender with her once the truth of her infidelity was to come out.

"I apologize, Hisana," he continued quietly, still stroking her hand. Her jaw sagged, for Kuchiki Byakuya apologizing was a rare occasion, even with her. "I did not expect it to hurt you to that degree."

She took a bated breath. "Byakuya-sama… what do you mean?"

In a single graceful movement he had pulled up her long sleeves to reveal her heavily bruised arms. She gasped noiselessly at his swiftness in unmasking her. Suddenly she felt bare and naked and vulnerable before him; the injuries she had worked desperately to hide from him were now in the open.

_The bartender's yellow eyes… he gripped her arms in a violent hold… he entered her cruelly, taking what originally only belonged to Byakuya… And what should only belong to Byakuya…_

She choked, and fear was terrible; it rose within her being like a slithering serpent, crushing her insides with its iron belly and licking pervasively at her constricting throat. He was going to know… it was time to face what she had done…

"You knew about my injuries?" Hisana whimpered despondently, her complexion ghastly white as snow, pretty purple eyes haunted. There was no surprise or shock in his hooded expression as he stared at her darkening wounds.

"I was waiting," Byakuya replied flatly, still in the same deadly quiet voice. And her breaths shortened further when she saw that he was angry. She could see the terrible anger in him despite his perfect composure, from the tautening of the elegant curve of his mouth, how the slate grey of his eyes deadened like an impending storm cloud, and the tenseness in the way he held his dignified shoulders from beneath her head. "I was hoping you would eventually tell me out of your own accord. I was wrong. Evidently, you were willing to endure great lengths to hide your arms' condition from me."

She bit her lip, but not because he had been right, but at his _words_.

He had only mentioned her arms. He had only mentioned her _arms_. It seemed that was all he had found out so far, and he didn't know, not of the fact that her injuries actually extended to almost the rest of her body, down to her thighs. Byakuya was a very perceptive man, and in a single day he had discovered the wounds on her arms, but that was all he had found out so far.

Like the sinner who was offered a golden opportunity not to be damned, she took it.

She took it with shame and covert tears, but she took it.

"I'm sorry, Byakuya-sama,'' Hisana apologized for the second time that day, feeling wretched and disgusted with herself. He continued cradling her hands, not letting go. ''I didn't want to worry you.''

She tried not to flinch at the hardness in his fixed, rigid expression, not to mention that the cool anger in him seemed to be intensifying. His beautiful glacial dark eyes had blackened ominously, almost like a shark's, and she realised for once what fear his foes must have felt standing before him in battle. Somehow his unyielding composure made him all the more terrifying. Yet she knew the cold anger was not directed at her, except maybe the fact that she had hidden her condition from him. For that, she knew she was going to be in trouble later. If she could survive _now_.

The sculpted lips parted to speak. ''Who did this to you?''

His baritone, while as smooth and collected as always, held a dangerous, menacing razor edge to it. His spidery fingers traced a dust-soft line along her ugly bruises, his touch gentle.

''It's not as bad as it looks,'' Hisana said hastily. ''Please-''

''Answer the question.''

Hisana winced at the stiletto-sharpness in the timbre of his voice. It was unlike him to be openly authoritative with her.

''Not all the Rukongai citizens are kind,'' she finally answered weakly. ''Some of them are rather... callous in their treatment towards me.''

''Do not play games with me, Hisana,'' Byakuya responded icily, aristocratic slope of his obsidian lashes narrowing. She stared feebly, her cheeks bloodless as his adroit fingers tenderly caressed a particular gruesome purple smear near her wrist. ''Whoever inflicted this possessed a keen intent to hurt you."

''It's true,'' she said, staring fixedly at her curled feet. ''You see, some of the citizens know that I am... your wife. And they don't like it.'' It was the closest to the truth, after all.

He was still and motionless from where he sat poised behind her. For a long moment no one spoke, and then he lifted one of her thin arms carefully to his lips, brushing tenderly against one of her bruises in a protective kiss.

Blood flooded her cheeks once more as his lips trailed up a fiery yet almost sorrowful path along her bruises, moving delicately from one to the next.

''I want a name,'' he murmured evenly against her shoulder, although the steeliness in his measured tenor was clear. She didn't need to ask who he was talking about.

''I can't remember,'' she lied. ''They were just a bunch of random thugs who clearly didn't like me.''

His head rose gracefully from her arm as he watched her inscrutably for a long, drawn-out heartbeat. Some of the frightening coldness had returned to his chilling expression. ''Did they hurt you anywhere else?''

She shook her head, forcing herself to look casual. ''No.''

She knew he didn't believe her, judging from the discreet twist of his thin, flawless lips. Hisana knew that she had to act quickly.

The woman reached up, her knees creaking faintly to support her and her thin arms wrapping around his slender neck, and pulled him into a kiss straight on the lips.

It had been so long.

He did not yield immediately, and for a few seconds she took the time to explore the rainy softness of his full, luscious lips, her head tilted sideways. And then he responded, taking domineering control of their kiss. His hands left her bare arms and snaked around her tiny waist, pulling her closer against his large frame and into the masculine deliciousness that was him.

The bartender had not kissed her at all throughout her whole encounter with him. For that, she was glad, for he had not taken everything that belonged to Byakuya and her.

The couple kissed for a while more, and she sighed in rapture against his fiery mouth, tasting the remnants of spice and tea against the sculpted, compact lips. In the meantime he slanted his mouth passionately, almost wildly, against hers, not giving her even a moment to take a breath. She buried her hands in his velvety tresses.

By the time they reluctantly broke the kiss, she could make out a hint of a smile in his smothering silver hues, akin to the dark yet vibrant colours of drizzling, tranquil nightfall.

They rested in each other's arms quietly. He stroked her dishevelled hair, his other arm curled protectively around her waist. Her head was draped serenely below the sophisticated curve of his neck; the ruined calligraphy lay unobtrusively beside the lovers.

He spoke.

''Do not travel to Rukongai again for the next few days.'' His voice was bland, calm, and while it was also gentle, the quietly powerful authority in it was audible. His wife shivered at the deep rumble reverberating through his firm, muscled chest.

''_Hai_, Byakuya-sama,'' she whispered obediently, his large pale hand still moving in rhythmical, assuaging strokes along her head. The woman blinked when he shifted away a little to retrieve a tiny bottle of medical oil from within his robes, before reaching up to gently take her arm. Finally, she began to understand what "other things" he had been referring to earlier on.

Hisana knew she would be going back to Rukongai the moment Byakuya left the mansion for his Division today. Although she planned to avoid the bartender, the woman could still secretly scope out the pub and pray that the red-haired boy –her sister's companion- was there.

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**To anyone who's confused, Hisana was relieved that Byakuya only knew the bruises were on her arms, and not the rest of her body. For if he had known the whole truth, she'd have no choice but to tell him she was raped cause there's really no other proper explanation when your whole body is bruised.**

**-_PPWSOT_**


	5. Chapter 5

_The sinned Lady Kuchiki is desperate to find her sister. This desperation caused her to make a single mistake- one that could cost her her marriage. Was being raped by another man worth anything? Infidelity and abandoning her sister... the Kuchiki Elders' cruel words were right, after all..._

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**Hi guys, thanks for reviewing. Sorry that it's been forever. Also, sorry if I missed out responding to anyone. It's a habit of mine to respond to each review once I start writing the chapter instead of afterwards, so along the way the newer reviews might be missed. Please don't misunderstand- all of you are greatly, GREATLY appreciated!**

**Indigo-Cascadian: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad I made your Friday afternoon happy! It's awesome to know that you think my depiction of Byakuya and Hisana was accurate, and yes, the way you described them was right too! Only Hisana isn't really reserved by nature in my fic, it's more of the fact that she doesn't want him to worry and that she loves him. She's willing to lie to him and keep her pains from him, and this could also be fuelled from the fact that she strongly feels she doesn't deserve him. Nonetheless she's determined to find her sister and Byakuya has the power to stop her. That's another reason. And yeah, I've pretty much read all the ByaHisa fics around here too! There are some really good writers around, and so I'm glad you seem to like my story! Once again, thanks!**

**Guest 1: I don't know who you are, but here's a VERY warm thank you! I love reviews, anonymous or not! Yes, Hisana's blind determination to find her sister is going to cost her a lot! She's bordering on desperate, and no, it's not wise of her. I agree with you, I bet canonically Hisana will do anything to find Rukia, even if it meant disobeying Byakuya! And oh, those weren't suggestions made by Byakuya, but orders. And she's outright ignoring them! D: Thank you for your compliments but I'm not sure I understand the Unohana and physician concept… Like, why should I not say Unohana? Could you explain to me what you mean? Sorry if I sound dumb!**

**Ryuu613: I agree, what are you doing, Hisana? Stop being so stubborn and listen to your sexy husband! Tell him you were violated, sob! And he will protect you and avenge you like the hot beast he is! Sorry, too much ByaHisa feels… I got freaked out by the dream I wrote too, aren't I weird? Scary, demonic babies frighten me for some reason. I dunno if you've watched Toy Story 3, but there's a toy baby in there that scared the hell out of me! Anyway, babies aside, thanks so much for your encouragement so far! You rock!**

**Califas: Yes, Hisana is determined! And it's not a healthy determination, but more like a tormented desperation that's driving her on from her wrecked conscience. Actually the main reason she didn't tell him the truth was because in her eyes, she had been unfaithful to Byakuya and had sinned against him. She didn't dare to tell him. But the honest fact was that she was **_**raped**_**, and she was a victim. But poor girl is feeling so tormented for abandoning Rukia amongst other things that she keeps blaming herself for everything. To sum things up, thanks for reviewing and I love your compliments!**

**Meichan: Late reviews are fine, love **_**is**_** love! –happy face- Yeah, Hisana's emotions are a whole wreck now. I feel really bad for her. In any case things are not over yet! Byakuya is no fool, he's not going to let her injuries go so easily. And like I said to Califas, Hisana isn't just determined, but desperate. Anyway thanks so much for reviewing and following my story so consistently! Feel free to make constructive criticism!**

**Crimson Btterfly: Omg. Omg. I can't believe you reviewed! I've been one of your fans for a long time and I have always admired your writing skills! The fact that you graced my little story with a review is just amazing! Thank you! Please feel free to make constructive criticism! **

**Guest 2: Hehe.. lemons? *Coughs wildly* I dunno, the story's current rating is T, and I'm not sure if I'm going to up it. Maybe the most there'll be is implied sex? Of course, if you guys want the actual.. ahem, stuff, I'll definitely consider it! Thanks for reviewing! Feel free to make more requests!**

**Sky235455: Hang on! I updated so don't freak out! Don't worry, I have no intention in dropping this story and if I did I'd let you guys know in the summary. But there's darn little chance I'd give it up so don't worry! Thanks for your support!**

**Strawberrynikki: Aww I can't wait til he finds out either~ all the drama makes me excitedd! Also, thanks for your compliment on my writing Byakuya; it means so much to me since I can't endure an OOC Byakuya. So if there's anything you find OOC about my writing one day do let me know! Major thanks for your review- I feel so happy!**

**Sunev. 31: thanks for all your reviews! For you to review all my chapters- that is darn sweet of you! Yeah Byakuya is such a gentleman! I mean he doesn't act like it but he is one underneath all the hawt iciness and I just love that! Also about your latest review; yes, Hisana was a virgin when she married Byakuya. In my story anyway. And because she was a virgin and that sleeping with Byakuya turned out to be such an amazing experience, she kinda naively believed that all sex experiences were meant to be good- until she got raped anyway.**

**Guest 3: thanks for your kind review! I appreciate you guys reminding me to hurry up and update! And no I am not giving up on this story, not in a long run ever. As long as people like it I will keep writing my OTP. So don't worry- and thank you for expressing support and interest in the fic! Hopefully the cliffhanger has now been somewhat resolved :p**

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Hisana stared at the wide array of dishes awaiting her on the small but elegant and sturdy table before her. She sat demurely on a velvet cushion, with Byakuya's silent but prominent presence close beside her. Her bony fingers closed over a pair of wooden chopsticks, and yet she continued staring blankly at her brunch.

There were congee, miso soup, green tea, hot honey water, tempura, dango, pork buns, cold watermelon slices and steamed chicken- enough to fill a prince. She bit her lip at the delicious aroma emanating from the freshly prepared food, something anyone would have been salivating over, but she simply… didn't.

Putting down the chopsticks, the woman then moved to pick up an empty bowl. Her bruised wrist still ached slightly, but after just being administered her husband's healing kido and the medical oil, they were undoubtedly taking a turn for the better. Not much of the same could be said for her equally bruised body, however.

''How much congee would you like, Byakuya-sama?'' She asked softly, her head lowered with the precision of delicate femininity.

He shook his dark head in an easily graceful movement, his Captain robes rippling faintly. ''I have already eaten. This is all yours.''

Her eyes turned as wide as saucers. ''I can't possibly finish this!'' _I can't possibly even eat half of this_.

''See to it that you do, then.''

Despite how calm and level he sounded, she did not miss the silent order in his velvet-smooth baritone.

What was this about? He had always been strict in making sure she ate, but expecting her to finish this much was unusual even for him. Was it due to her illness yesterday? Or her injuries? Sighing inwardly, she adjusted her hold on the bowl, before hesitantly lowering it on the table, scanning the dishes before her.

He watched her wordlessly, slate grey eyes intently roving the fine, frail bones of her small heart-shaped face. Her complexion was pallid white, and it radiated an unhealthy and sallow air about her. The dark silver eyes silently lowered onto the soft shape of her usually pink lips, noting how bloodless they now were. He also did not fail to notice the way she was desperately trying to don an unconcerned facade, and yet her large amethyst eyes fell listlessly on the steaming food as if they were mere cardboard.

To him, Hisana was a tiny creature so devastatingly beautiful and yet at the same so shatterable, like a precious porcelain doll. A dove, perhaps, would be a better description. A doll spoke of artificial things and there was absolutely nothing synthetic about Hisana. She was too natural and thus too fleeting- a beautiful, fragile woman who required every bit of his fierce protection. He loved her too very much. A life without her was unthinkable.

Everything he saw did nothing but worry him, albeit none of it showed in his spotless mien. While Hisana was certainly not a glutton, she had always at least expressed a somewhat tentative appetite for food. For her to have consumed nothing for the whole morning and yet look at her brunch as if it was the most unappetizing thing in the world only indicated that something was wrong. His acute gaze swept past her thin shoulders and fell onto her back once more, recognizing the harsh, blunt curves of her bony frame beneath her yukata. The memory of the nightmare she had this morning was fresh in his shrewd mind as he accurately recalled the stark terror and fear distorting her delicate features. She had never looked more vulnerable back then; his instinctive urge to protect her deepening to insane levels. _Something_ had traumatized her, despite her denials. Something since yesterday. His eyes narrowed minutely.

He was very worried indeed. The elegant noble knew he could not afford to wait, despite what he had reassured her. Tonight he would have to call the physician to examine his beloved wife.

Hisana almost jumped as silk robes brushed swiftly against her wrist like feathers floating across her skin, and turned to see Byakuya picking up the small flowery porcelain bowl from her startled hand. Noiselessly he approached the large steaming container of congee and picked up the ladle with a dexterous gloved hand. Realizing what he was about to do, she choked in mortification and rose.

''It's alright, Byakuya-sama, please-''

''Sit back down.''

The lush reverberation of his low, consonant intonation sounded almost dispassionate, but she knew better.

This was embarrassing and it made her chest constrict agonizingly like a piece of paper tearing. Such tasks were her duty, and if anything, she was supposed to serve him- not the other way round. And yet, just watching him, and realizing the ridiculous level of proficiency he displayed with even the simplest task of ladling congee for her, only intensified her melancholy.

The feeling of not belonging was back, clawing at her heart endlessly, and it felt virulent within her. She had always known she was out of place here, and not for the first time, she questioned her marriage to Byakuya. Was it worth it? Was it worth his having to deal with the disapprobation from the Elders, and having his family's reputation endangered? Was it worth his worry over her? Was it worth her guilt for what she had done to him?

Perhaps it would have been better if they had both left things the way they were before they had met. At least he would have been happier, and she... Well, she could never truly attain happiness- that she knew. But in all she would not have to do this to him.

Tendrils of curling, warm steam within her vision hastily cut off her morbid train of thought. She blinked slowly at the completely filled bowl of congee sitting before her, and inclined her head gratefully at her husband.

''Thank you, Byakuya-sama,'' she whispered softly, and the ardent gratitude in her voice extended to a lot more than a bowl of congee.

He simply met her gaze placidly, the precise, refined features of his face set in its usual blase, phlegmatic mask. The man would have almost appeared to be cold in a stranger's point of view if not for the fact that she had learnt to read through the subtle cracks of his well-built armour. Easily Hisana noticed the softness in the exotic stone-coloured tint of his slanted eyes, how the corner of his pale lips curled lightly, and the easy way he held himself.

Picking up her silver spoon, she reached for her bowl. The creamy white waves of the rich congee looked... dull and it simply did not appeal to her despite the fact that it was obviously of the best quality of food.

''Does your arm still hurt?'' Byakuya deadpanned quietly, and despite his flat voice she felt a mysterious undertone lurking beneath.

''No,'' Hisana answered swiftly. Stealing a glance at him, her back stiffened when she saw how his unmoving, calm stare had darkened once more. Sudden realization struck her so abruptly that she nearly reeled.

How could she have been so naive?

''Byakuya-sama… you… don't intend to let it go at all, do you?'' She whispered, and she knew he knew what she meant.

A perfect black brow lifted along the unmarred, milky skin at her words, and she didn't miss the chilling apathy that crept into his regal slate eyes, much like an awaiting predator. An awaiting predator that refused to relinquish its prey.

He spoke, his voice soft but deliberate.

''You would expect me to stand idle with the knowledge that my wife was assaulted?'' Normally she would have been shivering at the possessiveness that streaked his fluent baritone, but right now she could only feel trepidation. ''Clearly, Hisana, you are still unfamiliar with the ways of the Kuchiki Clan.''

His eyes found hers intently.

She took a deep breath, and gathered her splintered courage. ''But I'm fine. It's really nothi-''

''Injuring a Kuchiki family member is unforgivable,'' he cut in evenly, eyes closing dangerously. She bit her lip when she felt his calloused thumb probingly stroking her thin wrist beneath the entrance of her silk sleeve. His eyes opened again, gaze flickering sedately down onto her arm, its bruises hidden beneath the cloth, and faint traces of tenderness crossed his flawless features. ''Much less the Lady of the Kuchiki family.''

''Byakuya-sama-''

He released her arm abruptly, and her voice trailed off. Hisana peered helplessly upwards, her hands fidgeting, watching him as he rose gracefully to his feet from his cushion like a god ascending from its throne. The grim, unreadable expression on his beautiful profile told her that the discussion, as short as it had been, was over.

Long white captain robes rippled majestically along his tall, lofty form as he glided away from her languidly; the beautiful, pliant length of Senbonzakura strapped to his lean side. His sable mane flowed smoothly along his powerful shoulders. Not for the only time, despite her apprehension, Hisana truly understood what the word reverence meant.

As if on cue, the shoji door slid open gently with a papery rustle and the butler's bent figure materialized respectfully before them in the entrance of the vast room.

''Byakuya-sama,'' he croaked, and Hisana, not daring to move from her seat, forced herself to watch as the elderly man meekly approached her husband. The Head of the family regarded the servant coldly before speaking in low, monotonous smooth tones, so low that she couldn't catch what he was saying. The butler nodded his head along to what seemed like instructions, his white hair luminous.

Her stomach clenched as she struggled to hear what Byakuya was saying. Was this about the imaginary group of thugs she had told Byakuya? She shouldn't have lied to him at all!

Suddenly the dishes before her lost even more appeal. The mere thought of even swallowing anything made her want to throw up.

"Hisana."

Her head jolted upwards hastily, and a flush fell onto her cheeks as she stared bashfully into smoky yet vivid grey orbs. The tacit intensity in the way he observed her only served to deepen the crimson on her face. But then, Byakuya Kuchiki was all about intensity; when he did his calligraphy, when he sparred with his sword, when he kissed the hollow of her neck, and when he cupped her perky breast during their lovemaking. The butler, still standing beside Byakuya, was forgotten. For that heartbeat, it simply felt like a solitary world just between her and Byakuya.

_If only_ _it really was_.

A long night-black lock of silky hair skimmed fluidly across Byakuya's smooth cheekbones as he slightly tilted his head at her. His watchful gaze lingered, scanning every single curve of her outline. "Do not let me catch you hiding something from me again," he intoned unhurriedly, every word slowly yet perfectly punctuated.

Hisana recognised the sharp reprove in his brass voice, tummy knotting. He certainly didn't know how close he was to the truth then…

"Yes, Byakuya-sama," she nearly whimpered. "I'm sorry. I simply don't want you to worry…"

His eyes narrowed, and she flinched when a fleeting flash of anger crossed his countenance. She immediately knew she had offended him, and she scrambled gracelessly to her feet in dismay, swaying from the sudden motion. "Byakuya-sama-"

"Eat," he ordered calmly, angelic features a cool mask once more. "I want you to rest today."

She could only watch helplessly as her husband finally turned and left, captain robes fluttering elegantly. The butler bowed as his master swept past him.

* * *

''He's angry at me, isn't he?'' She said softly, face staring at her bowl. The congee Byakuya had served for her only intensified the despondency in her chest. ''I just don't understand it sometimes.''

The butler watched her mutely from where he stood by the shoji door, but out of the corner of her eye she noticed traces of hesitance crossing his wrinkled features. Quickly she turned to face him, her words beseeching. ''Tell me. You know something, don't you? Please, tell me.''

He shook his head. ''It is nothing important, Hisana-sama.''

There was a silence, and sensing her rising distress he finally relented, owl-like glasses clicking unobtrusively.

''Perhaps... If my lady would pardon my saying so, Byakuya-sama feels my lady does not regard him enough as a husband.''

Hisana's violet orbs widened bemusedly at the pragmatically spoken words. ''But... Not wanting her husband to worry... is that not a wife's duty?''

''I have known Byakuya-sama since he was only a toddler, Hisana-sama,'' the butler said kindly, his back still habitually bowed before her. ''Since he was born he was immediately brought into a world filled with heavy responsibilities. And carry them out he did- more meticulously than even the average noble, if I may say so. Byakuya-sama is truly the pride and joy of the Kuchiki Clan, partly because he is undeniably the most capable Head to date. His loyalty to the family is incomparable; and it was... stunning, my lady, to realise one day that he loves just as passionately as his loyalty to the clan.''

Hisana took in a sharp intake of breath, but said nothing.

''It was not really Hisana-sama's birthplace that shocked Sereitei, I believe,'' the servant continued quietly. ''It was Byakuya-sama's decision. It was something that had contradicted everything he had done in his life. And I do believe, Hisana-sama, that he knew that. But he is in love- Byakuya-sama is in love-'' The butler took a deep breath in mid-statement, overwhelmed by emotion, ''And it is amazing. In everything he does, he truly does it to the end. I believe... perhaps Byakuya-sama's love for Hisana-sama is indescribable. He is prepared to lay out all for my lady- he already has to an extent; and it hurts him that he is denied that today.'' The elderly man lowered his grey head lethargically, crinkled fingers laced together. ''Forgive me if my lady is offended. This is... simply an old man's rambling.''

Hisana shook her head, a small melancholic smile on her pale lips. ''I think... an old man's wise words would be a better description...''

She pushed the filled bowl away, her knees bent slightly over the soft cushion to rise.

''Hisana-sama!'' The butler stated in alarm, his voice hoarse. Withered hands reached out beneath long robes. ''Please finish your lunch. Byakuya-sama has given clear instructions that my lady is to finish every bit of her meal.''

''And finish it I will,'' Hisana lied. She had gotten fully to her feet, a miniature, thin hand holding onto the edge of the table for some support. Damn it, why did her legs suddenly feel so weak? ''But first I would like to rest. I feel rather tired all of a sudden. I will be heading to my room now- please see to it that no one disturbs me. I do beg of you.''

The desperate plead in her voice proved to be the old man's undoing. He dipped his back further reluctantly. ''Yes, my lady.''

The servant could only watch helplessly as a maid helped the household's mistress away. This was not good. The lady, frail and thin as she was, had touched practically nothing of her meal, meaning that she had eaten nothing at all today. There was truly no point, he knew, in resting on an empty stomach.

Byakuya-sama was going to be very angry when he returned from the division. And an angry, worried Kuchiki Byakuya was a terrifying thing indeed.

Sighing listlessly to himself the old manservant lifted the filled bowl of porridge with a thin, almost skeletal hand. He began placing the heavy dishes on a large black tray, making a mental note to heat them up later when she awoke. Things were not good, he ruminated grimly. They were not good at all.

The only good thing was the Lord's decision to summon the physician tonight.

* * *

Hisana stood alone in the splendor of her large bedroom, blinking slowly and tiredly. She wished that she could really go to sleep and attempt to forget everything- forget the maelstrom of emotions storming within her.

Knowing that Byakuya-sama loved her immensely was never big news; she had always known- even if he had seldom told her with words; she could barely remember the last time he had told her openly that he loved her. But actions truly spoke louder than words, for in almost everything he did in his silent, taciturn ways, he put her before himself. Be it their lovemaking, how he took her in as his wife, and even in the most mundane activities- she never failed to feel his love and there were times when she actually felt a little exasperated with his overprotectiveness. A long time ago she would have been flattered and overjoyed that the man she adored felt the same for her -maybe even a lot more- but now she could only feel guilt scratching vindictively at her abused heartstrings.

They had been married for four years, and still she had not had his child. There had been two pregnancies, but both had ended in miscarriages. The misery and agony she had felt then had nearly sent her into a severe depression, if not for the fact that he had been there for her every step of the way. The physician had simply stated that her body was frail, and one day, patience might finally award them- or simply never bear fruit. Byakuya had showed little consternation about the loss of their children, but she knew that inwardly he must had felt pained. Which father would not at the loss of his offspring? And yet later on the Head of the family had flatly told her that he did not want her to conceive anymore, fearing that it could prove detrimental to her health.

She knew what the physician had told Byakuya. She would not survive a pregnancy, even if she managed to deliver the child. The pregnancy alone could slowly kill her, let alone the laborious delivery. Not to mention that any child of Byakuya's would definitely be powerful, with incredible reiatsu. For a woman with about almost zero reiatsu to carry such a powerful foetus- it would be certainly somewhat dangerous for her. She had hardly had the chance to ever encounter Byakuya's unleashed reiatsu -he had always effortlessly toned it down around her- but she had heard from the Shinigami and Sixth Division Lieutenant Shirogane that it was petrifying and destructive enough to crush an average Death God.

Initially it was true Byakuya had been pleased at the prospect of having children, and so had she. But upon hearing what the physician had said, the change in her husband had been tremendous. He did not need any heirs, he had stated, if he would lose his wife. The Lord had thus decreed that his distant cousin, another famous Kuchiki, succeed him in taking over the Family.

The elders had naturally been furious.

And Hisana very guilty. She could only feel that she had shattered Byakuya's family and their plans. To her it was as if she had simply shattered Byakuya's life since her arrival in it. He was without heir, his relationship with the Elders was souring and constantly he seemed to worry about her.

For a while, being with him had been like a princess's dream come true- to be saved from the slums of Rukongai and into the world of the wealthy. But the latter did not always equate to a better world she realized. She knew most of the other nobles detested her, especially the female ones; ladies who were originally engaged to Byakuya through the arrangement of their families.

_Maybe_, Hisana thought quietly, _I should be less selfish and consider getting him a concubine. One that can have his child. _

It wasn't as if the thought didn't kill her inside; it did. However, she was aware of the fact that wives had the power to arrange for a concubine for their husbands. The men themselves were of course more than capable to arrange one, but throughout the 4 years of their marriage Byakuya had showed far from any sign to even want to do that. After her second miscarriage she had timidly, on the spur of the moment, asked him about one, to which he had responded with a cold silence. It had only took her a few minutes to realize she had deeply angered him with even the mere idea.

She could only provide him with silly massages and serve him tea made with her pathetic love. What else?

Shaking her head violently she then shifted sluggishly along the polished tiled floor and picked up a long tattered dark haori from where it hung inside her vast, towering wardrobe. Right now the household was under the impression that she was asleep in her room, and that was just what she wanted. Even if it was an illusion.

She draped the rough coat over her frail shoulders, feeling more miniature than ever under the oversized cloth. The petite woman lowered her knees and reached for a pair of straw sandals beneath the antique timber drawers of her vanity. Her wounded frame ached painfully from the simple motion, the bruises along her torso stinging. Her head spun heavily.

One of the mansion's most frequent visitors had been the young, child-like lieutenant of the Eleventh Division, Yachiru. The pink-haired little girl seemed to harbor a crush on her husband like the rest of the female population- the main difference was that she held no qualms expressing it to him despite the fact that he was married. However, Hisana didn't mind; she found it rather adorable that such a young child could hold such persistent affection for a grown, reserved man like Byakuya. On the other hand, said man was not so amused by her tactics and mostly he chose to ignore her and to seal all entrances and openings of the mansion whenever she was nearby.

This wasn't enough to deter his devoted admirer, much to Hisana's entertainment. The lieutenant began to dig holes and tunnels all around the underground layout beneath the manor- a feat Hisana could not fathom- but the Lady still welcomed Yachiru in any case. The bubblegum-haired female adored Hisana as well, despite the fact that the latter was clearly her 'love rival'.

And now Hisana could only be glad of her friendly acquaintance with Yachiru, for she now knew almost all the locations of the hidden structures of the secret tunnels burrowed by the lieutenant. She was not entirely sure how much her reticent husband really knew about the secret passages- but for now it didn't matter. He was at the Sixth Division and the household thought she was slumbering. The coast was clear.

How fortunate was she that Yachiru had constructed a long tunnel right below Byakuya and her bedroom? A tunnel that led out to the exit of the mansion...

Quietly as she could, Hisana peeled away her futon from the smooth floor and began pressing probingly onto the expensive, grand floorboards. A small click resounded as wood began to grind and shift.

* * *

The pretty young slender woman panted slightly from where she stood outside a dirty, stained window. She tugged absently at the too-big haori hanging over her tiny physique, her glimmering purple eyes peering through the murky depths of the filthy windowpane. Somehow she could just make out the outlines of people inside, as heads bent back to take a swig of beer. From around her the Rukongai citizens of Inuzuri stared, wondering what a young, decent-looking woman was doing furtively outside a pub.

Hisana felt tired and slightly giddy, but none of it could compare to the rush of disappointment flowing through her abdomen. There was no flame-haired waiter inside; meaning that her little sister's friend was not there. She had traveled all the way here on a fruitless journey once more- to come to this place only to be once again reminded of dark memories she wished were not fresh in her mind.

Even now, just thinking about _that _man caused bile to churn in the back of her throat. The memory of his yellow eyes terrified her and the fact that she was possibly so near him right now made her body tremble. The wounds along her ripped nether region still ached and her trip to the bathroom after Byakuya had left this morning had been a challenging one. Urinating proved to be a painful process. Never before, in all her intimate nights with Byakuya, had this ever happened. He had always been so meticulously cautious when he entered her, to the point that he was a breathtaking mix of controlled urgency and reluctance. Often ironically she had been the one to cry for him to hurry and take her instead...

And now, she certainly did not want to be near the demonic bartender who had thrown her into the current terrorizing ordeal she was in.

But the red-haired boy was not here, and so there was no reason to stay. Quickly she turned, ready to flee as swiftly as she could.

''My my,'' a voice chimed in calmly, freezing her in mid-movement. ''What have we here? A noble in the Rukon district? Odd, isn't it?''

Hisana hissed in a sharp, wavering breath, her head whipping back at the direction of the sudden voice. The sight of a brown-haired man sitting lazily on the grimy, dusty steps leading to a nearby hut greeted her. She easily recognised the dark shinigami robes the male donned, and vaguely she noticed that he was barefooted, his sandals lying on one side of his socked feet. An empty sake bottle rolled from his slouched body.

She couldn't fathom why she hadn't noticed him earlier.

''You know,'' he continued, eyeing her almost in wonder, yet not moving from his indolent position, ''I've only ever seen you from a distance, but now that you're up close, it really kinda surprises me that you are that tiny. Because people only look small when they're far away, you know? But yet, you're indeed the tiniest woman I've ever seen. Such a pretty little thing you are. Perhaps Byakuya Kuchiki likes his women that way?''

Hisana flinched. Who was this man? She had no memory of ever meeting him before; was he from the Sixth Division? In any case, something about the casual, conversational way he spoke scared her. He looked far too calm and disinterested that she was here- almost as if... Almost as if he had been expecting her. It was a ridiculous thought, but still...

She needed to go. The Kuchiki household currently thought she was asleep, and she couldn't maintain this charade for too long. They were bound to check on her soon- with or without her instruction not to disturb her. What she was doing -fooling Byakuya and the household- was extremely dangerous and risky. Her silly plan was foolhardy and hardly risk-proof. She had to hurry back while she could. Not to mention she was obviously eager to get away from the nightmarish pub.

''I'm sorry,'' Hisana stated softly, lilac-colored eyes averted. To say the mysterious shinigami before her made her uneasy would be an understatement. She decided wisely not to comment on his bizarre dialogue before. '' I... need to go. You should go back to Sereitei too, I'm sure your division must be looking for you.''

''You mean,'' The man said succinctly, and suddenly, out of simply nowhere, a jolt of fear ripped through her the moment he opened his mouth. It was as if her instincts were sensing the impending animosity in his next words, and they were right. ''The same way your husband might be looking for you once he finds out you've had a sexual rendezvous with another man here?''

Ever so casually he flicked the side of his head towards the noisy pub.

The words, so easily uttered from him, were like multiple daggers running through her heart one by one. She could almost feel the physical pain of it; so excruciating was the reeling impact. An impact so strong that for a few seconds she could only gasp silently, her breaths tremulous. Her legs stumbled.

He raised an eyebrow at her reaction. ''It seems I've hit a nerve. Am I right, Lady Kuchiki?''

She parted her quivering lips, her amethyst hues turning wet with emotion. Her heart, surprisingly, was not racing but rather it had frozen, like a frail, solid piece of crimson ice. ''How... do you-?''

It was almost humiliating to see him still lazily sprawled on the filthy steps with seemingly no care in the world while she was nearly cowering with fear and shame. And yet she did not care about said humiliation; the myriad of storm clouds within her was too consuming.

''How do I know, you mean?'' The death God repeated boredly. ''Well, the man you had an affair with told me, of course.'' A devilish smirk crossed his mouth, abruptly contradicting his unconcerned persona. From the small distance, sounds of boisterous slurred laughter sounded from the pub nearby. Her spine trembled at the thought of _him _inside.

''I did not have an affair with him,'' Hisana said fiercely, nearly choking at her vehemence. ''I loathe that man. _He _ forced himself on me. There was absolutely nothing consensual about what I did with him!'' And she had her bruised physique to prove it too. She did not know why she was so keen to let the mysterious shinigami know this- but the fact remained that she hated the idea that she might had hurt Byakuya, even if he wasn't here to hear this.

And thank heavens he wasn't.

He simply looked amused, much to her intensifying dread. ''That doesn't change what you did,'' he countered calmly, now sitting up properly from his initially slouched position. His crow-black robes flickered. ''Nobody in Sereitei is going to care about that. What they _are _going to care about is the fact that you slept with someone other than your husband. Think about the shame it's going to bring to the renowned, noble Kuchiki Clan. Think about the shame it's going to bring to Kuchiki Byakuya.'' Even without seeing his features, Hisana could hear the caustic smile in his sneering voice. ''And what did he ever do to deserve this? Oh, right, he fell for _you.''_'

If his words hadn't been biting before, they sure were now. Only earlier on they had been ant bites, stinging her bit by bit. This time it was a shark's bite, engulfing her whole in its agonizing, searing cavern.

Hisana fell to her knees, her large haori fluttering as its petite owner bent over with a violent coughing fit. The coughs that overtook her shaking body increased to the point that her fingers dug against the foul, blackened concrete. Her head lowered uncontrollably as she retched, dark strands of her hair falling over her crumpled forehead. Nothing would come out of her mouth, however- she had eaten nothing for her to expel out.

There was no doubt that the current coughing fit was worse than yesterday's.

''Oh my,'' The man commented with mild interest, watching almost detachedly as her coughs finally ceased and she crouched there, gasping helplessly for air. Her fingers were darkened with soot and dirt from clutching the ground. ''No wonder the Sixth Division Captain is always known to be so protective of you. You're as weak as you are tiny, aren't you?''

Tears spilled from her eyes and fell across her bloodless cheeks, leaving an almost ethereal crystal trail across her smooth, China-doll skin.

She was exceptionally enchanting, the Shinigami thought cryptically, when in despair and sadness.

''I'd hate to see what your reaction would be if I told him about what you did,'' he continued casually. ''Can you take it, knowing that your husband's reputation might become tainted because of you?''

She let out a choked, almost strangled sound. ''Please...''

''Please?'' He repeated. He let out a mirthless, acidic chuckle. ''Pleas don't interest me. They certainly didn't interest your husband when it concerned me. What I want from you, sweetheart, isn't a plea. You do know who owns you now, don't you? You want me to keep quiet about your guilty little secret? Well, I want you to _submit _to me.''

Her large doe eyes widened beneath delicate lashes; shimmering lavender pools swimming with tears and fear. There was no doubt about it, he noted dryly. Her eyes were certainly her most exquisite feature.

''Oh, don't worry,'' the male laughed. ''Byakuya Kuchiki doesn't need to know of this between us. Besides, I have no intention to have sex with you, if that's what you're thinking. Right now,'' he leaned over and grasped her tiny chin, taking in her flinch, ''Having the wife of that _Kuchiki Byakuya _under my control is more than enough for me.''

Offhandedly he shoved his discarded straw sandals with his socked toes towards her. She stared at it, her insides numb and her head light-headed. The tears had clumped to her skin now, but her mind was spinning too much to comprehend why they had even been there in the first place. She felt nauseous and disoriented- she wanted to go home.

''Well, what are you just staring for?'' he demanded arrogantly, looking down at her crouched, docile posture before him. ''Put on my shoes for me, Byakuya Kuchiki's wife.''

There was a long pause- and to her sinking horror, her stupefied hands reached out mechanically to grasp a sandal. Slowly, her nails digging into the straw, she placed it over his outstretched foot.

''Good job,'' he jeered, grinning maliciously as she robotically adjusted the sandal on his foot. The gleam in his eyes was almost inhuman, so consumed by cruelty it was. ''You can go home after this, Byakuya Kuchiki's wife. I give you the permission. Go back and pretend to be the cute little wife you are to him. Pretend nothing has happened. But this is not the end with me. Oh no.''

Roughly he hauled her by her hair, pulling her head up so that she faced him. A broken noise fell from her white lips; her eyes haunted and yet at the same time hollow. ''Try to remember the name of the man who owns you now,'' he whispered. ''It's Kento.''

* * *

**Hopefully you guys like this chapter. **

**-_PPWSOT_**


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